Inamorata
by FallenStar2
Summary: What would have happened had Buffy not died jumping off the tower? [AU Post Seasion 5 WIP - reviews welcome!]
1. While She Was Sleeping

**Inamorata**  
  
This fanfic is dedicated to my beta and all-around outstanding friend, Katrina, who has been on this planet for 23 fantastic years as of July 20. She is a true Buffy/Giles shipper, and I have decided to write this as a thank you gift and as a dedicated birthday present. Because she is my beta and is not on tap with this spiel, this fiction is un-beta-ed. If you would like to be beta me for one teeny tiny gift, email at ajaynac@hotmail.com.   
  
Reviews are most welcome. Point of Views vary by chapter. The first chapter is Giles POV.  
  
  


* * * * *

  
  


**Chapter 1  
While She Was Sleeping**

  
  


* * * * *

  
  
It happened right before my eyes. I had glanced up, and watched, as she fell from the sky, bolder than the slayer I had ever met. Her eyes had been shut tightly, her face readying for the pain the portal would drain, as her life was swept before her eyes. I could imagine what she had seen. Her mother and her father, her sister, Dawn, all of her lovers and friends, and in the blink of an eye, I am certain she saw my face before she fell.  
  
I had worried when it happened. I saw the portal close and her body fall from the tower. Bless my heart, I saw her face, the terror, the understanding that she was giving up her life for the lives of ours.  
  
And at that moment, I knew. I knew I loved her. She was unique, a special woman, who had worked and strived to make our town safe. I had worked by her side, as her Watcher, but as a friend too. I had given her advice over the years. I had given her my heart, had looked at her as a father figure. But as she fell, I could understand what Spike, a vampire who was only a small metallic chip away from brutal murder, could see in her. I could see her sacrifice. I could feel her heart.  
  
I was the first one to her side. Xander and Willow were right behind me, both sporting their own wounded lovers. Spike was huddled behind me, buried under the dust from his fall, his eyes wide with disbelief. Dawn was above us, screaming to get down, her eyes wide because her sister was still alive. Her screams died as I gave the order for Willow to get help. Dependable Willow knew the anxiety in my voice had risen. She had left Tara with me to get help. I saw Tara reach after her, her hand outstretched, reaching for what she'd nearly lost.  
  
I watched the Slayer dying in my arms.  
  
In the two days that followed, I was in a daze. The ambulance trip had passed in the blink of an eye. I had held Buffy's hand even as the paramedics tried to force me away. I could see out the back of the ambulance the other two that followed. One held Dawn, who had passed out halfway down the tower and had taken a rather nasty fall. The second held Anya, who was still weak from being pelted with cargo which had tumbled onto her during the final battle. I had turned away and back to my Slayer, who was very pale under the white sheet, the oxygen mask covering her lovely face, a face once seen vibrant and full of life. The emergency room had been cold. I shivered underneath my tweed blazer, watching as my slayer fought between life and death. The others had come in, healed from their own injuried, their faces expectant. Two days turned into two weeks.  
  
That was when they told me the hope was almost gone. Buffy would never recover from the coma.   
  
It shook me then, how much she had grown on me. From her first antics as a wild fifteen year old to a beautiful twenty-year-old, she had proven to me once and again her worth.  
  
I cried that night. It was the first time in nearly three years I had cried.   
  
They were not the hot, bitter tears I had spilled over her disappearance after she had calmed Acathla and killed Angel. They were tears of sadness, of angst, of pity. I had forced my way upon her for so long.   
  
Two months turned into four and quickly multiplied to eight. I had rarely left her side. The Watcher's Council visited frequently, as I could tell by the multiple vases of decaying flowers and the wilted balloons and stacked teddy bears that she was among friends. I was both impressed and amazed by the impact she'd had on the lives of those that poured in, day after day, to leave gifts, to say prayers, to take my place so I could find a spot for a few hours of sleep.  
  
I usually took my guitar into her private suite with me. Next to its battered leather case was my teapot, an electric that plugged into the wall. Normally, I'd be opposed to such a catastrophic event, but the past eight months have tamed me. I've become more sensitive, a better listener. I watched her face closely, saw her muscles twitched. Conversations from years past floated in my head. I smiled fondly at the memories.  
  
Willow told me during one particularily hard night that I should just go home and rest, because Buffy was in the best medical care the state of California had to offer. Willow and the others, under the protection of Spike, were working day in and day out to prove themselves to me. And, in part, to the Slayer. They were good too, bloody good. They had staked nine of ten vampires and had even attacked a horned demon the night before. Willow was starting to get a firmer hold on her magicks, and Tara was by her side, controlling her, being the string holding Willow together. Xander and Anya were planning their way to the altar, which they would set after Buffy had awoken. If she awoke.   
  
I truly believed she would. Like Faith, she was in a coma. And like Faith, she was fighting her worst demons to come alive. I could see it in her face, the heartbreaking struggle between life and death. She was lost, alone, cold in a stormy meadow, fighting her way home.  
  
I prayed that night, harder than I prayed before. I held her hand and sang softly to her, my voice rising and falling to the beeps on her heart monitor.  
  
Finally, I released her hand and sat back, too tired to continue. I just wished she would wake up, so I could finally tell her.   
  
I would tell her how much I had missed her in the past eight months. I would tell her how much I respected her decision that night, so far back, to jump off the tower and to give her life for Dawn's. I would tell her how proud of her I was, to have fought off and defeated Glory. I would tell her about Ben, about how I had killed him so he could no longer hurt my Slayer. I would tell Buffy that the Council had been visiting weekly, sending their regards in visits and teddy bears. I would tell Buffy how much her friends had missed her, waiting for her to come back to them. I would tell her how much I missed her, how much I longed to hear her laughter, to see that smile on her face, to hear her voice sardonically telling me off, to watch her fight and win. I would tell her how much I missed her winning, her victories.   
  
I opened my eyes with a start and watched her face. The silver shadow of light falling from the moon outside cast an eerie shadow on her pale face. She had regained color in the past few days and was stirring more. I moved forward and placed another tape into the casette player and listened to the soothing cello.  
  
"Yeah. That'll do it. Boring her into another coma, Watcher?"  
  
I opened my eyes to see Spike standing in the doorway. Although there was a trace of lost emotion in his eyes as he glanced at Buffy, he flickered his eyes back to me with his usual smirk.   
  
"It's soothing, the cello. You should try it sometime," I insisted.  
  
Spike gave a casual shrug before risking another look at her again. "No change," I said quickly. He glanced back at me.  
  
"Just came to fill you in on the nightly patrol. We managed to run into another one of those ugly one-horned demons. Willow managed to levitate it and place it into a giant nitrogen bubble. Managed to give herself a migrane, that witch. Anya and Xander were standing beside me, arguing about which color the bubble was. A great show, that one. You should have been there. She should have been there..." his voice trailed off. "I tried to videotape it. Wouldn't have the same effect though."  
  
All I could do was sigh and reach over my shoulder to plug in the teapot. "You here to relieve me or bore me underground?" I asked, an edge to my voice.  
  
Spike's eyes flickered in the darkness. "Watcher's got a cold shoulder, does he..."  
  
"This Watcher has the emotional range of an artichoke," I snapped, reaching moodily for my mug and slipping inside a teabag. "I've been sitting in this chair for eleven hours now."  
  
"Which is exactly why I'm here," Spike replied, his signature smirk flashing his face. "Go home, Rupert."  
  
I ingored his comment while I filed my cup to its brim and set it aside. "Are you really here for me, or are you in here for her?"  
  
"You," Spike said, much too quickly for my taste. I turned my gaze to him as I silently sipped my tea as he spilled through one explanation after another. But they all lead me to the same truths. He was still in love with her.  
  
"Do you love her?" I asked, cutting him off. He glanced at me, speechless for a moment before he took a breath.   
  
"I think I was back then," he said, speaking in a low voice. "But now things have changed. I've found myself out there, in the real world, while she was sleeping. I can fight demons. I can fight evil. And I can do it with or without her. Even if she wakes up, I can stand aside. She can have her life and I can find mine."  
  
"Where will you go?" I asked, finding my tone surprisingly understanding.   
  
"Once Xander and Anya get shacked, I'll take over her apartment," he said. "It's got a great ground floor view and with heavy shades, it'll be as good as my crypt."  
  
I continued to sip at my tea, my eyes on the bleached blonde, considering his words. "I'm sorry," I finally said, setting my empty mug aside. "I have misjudged your intentions."  
  
"I'm on your side, Rupert," he said with a steely tone. He gazed at the Slayer for a long moment before returning his gaze to mine. "I've had enough of being a lapdog. I'm trying to be my own man now. Trying to redeem myself for the hundred years of torture, pain and mayhem I spread in my glory days. I'm trying to reclaim my glory days, with a new definition. A new reason to be, to exist. As long as she sleeps, I'm the hero. When she wakes up, I'll still be a hero. No more googly eyes. No more hormones. No more moody romantic."  
  
I frowned as his words sank into me. In the past few years, I had known one Spike. He had been trying from right after Dawn had been discovered as Key to get into Buffy's love life. He had driven off Riley, the only semi-normal man Buffy had ever loved. I peered curiously toward him as I wordlessly stood up, gesturing toward my chair. "It's all yours."  
  
"I'll call you if there's any change," Spike replied, disappearing into the bathroom to gather a tattered plastic bag. He returned with it a moment later, taking my chair and removing bagged blood and a large book, which fell onto the floor. He followed my gaze as I read the title and smirked. "I didn't know learning about one-horned demons was against the rules, Watcher."  
  
For bloody sake, that was beginning to annoy me. His calling me 'Watcher'. I rolled my eyes as I collected my coat and left, eight months of memories following me as I walked through the door.  
  
In the lobby, Willow was curled in a chair, sound asleep. It was evident Spike had dragged her down here to drive me home. I was touched by his thoughtfulness, even though I had once thought he had none. I gently nudged her and she awoke, gazing at me as though I were a fond memory of time past. Taking my hand, she rose, her words melted into a yawn. Silently, she lead me outside, into the cold, clear night.


	2. Know Your Strength

This Chapter is Buffy/First Slayer POV. There are spoilers for Season 7, both "Get it Done" and "Chosen" and Season 5 "Forever".  
  
* * * * *  
  


** Chapter 2  
Know Your Strength**  
  
* * * * *  
  


I was walking. I felt like I'd been walking forever. Around me, the desert scenery remained unchanged as the sand filtered between my toes. I stopped and glanced down, watching as the sand barely moved in the barely-there breeze.  
  
I wondered where I was. I glanced around, noticing there was nothing else moving around me. I had no direction to go. I had nowhere. Was I anywhere? Was I anything?  
  
I continued walking.  
  
It was then I saw the fire. I walked toward it. I wasn't cold. I wasn't hot either. I'm not sure what I was. I was just walking barefoot in sand toward a fire I had just spotted.  
  
I reached the fire and sat down on the log, offered like a bench for royalty. I sat down and extended my arms toward the fire, suddenly feeling a chill like a thousand blocks of ice being traced across my body. I moved closer to the fire.  
  
I blinked. The flames seemed to be growing higher. "It's waiting for you."  
  
I turned to the voice behind me. Tara was standing there. "You took her voice."  
  
"She asked me to bring you here. She asked that you would come."  
  
"Who?" I was confused now. I put my hand to my head, which was beginning to ache. I narrowed my eyes to see her better, to hear her next answer. It was as though bells were ringing in my head.  
  
"Her," Tara replied softly, gesturing across the fire. I turned my head to see nothing except flames dancing.   
  
Day became night. Tara waited beside me, wordlessly ignoring my questions and concerns as I muttered to myself, my headache becoming steadily worse.   
  
"You speak a lot about what you've lost," she finally said, noticing as I fell silent my lack of words toward my friends.  
  
"I miss them," I replied softly. "I wish they were here."  
  
"Do you not believe in yourself? Have you only put your faith in others?"  
  
"They watch my back," I said.  
  
"They watched you die."  
  
"Am I dead?"  
  
"Are you?"  
  
She was starting to confuse me now. How was I supposed to know what I was? I silently gazed at her, waiting for her to continue. "Death was your gift."  
  
"Was my gift?" I asked, speaking each word slowly. "I am dead?"  
  
"That's for you to decide."  
  
"How?"  
  
"You choose."  
  
The voice had changed. I turned my gaze to the fire. I saw her, huddled by the fire. She moved back and forth, darting. "I don't understand."  
  
"You never did," she replied, still moving from side to side, her eyes never leaving my face.   
  
I was getting frustrated now. Surely, she could see that. I shook my head to prove I really never did understand and waited for her to speak again.  
  
"It is time for you to know your strength," the first Slayer replied, continuing her motions. "It is time for you to know what you are and what you become."  
  
I was still not understanding her. For all I knew, she was speaking mandarin.   
  
She moved closer to me. She lifted her hand and gently, ever so gently, touched my face. "You will."  
  


* * * * *

  
  
I was watching her, watching her shake her head back and forth. Her eyes widened with disbelief when I touched her face, only wanting to make her see. I moved my hand over her eyes and felt her shift beneath my grasp. Then I heard her gasp.  
  
She was seeing again.  
  
"You see?" I asked.  
  
She nodded, her form going limp as she moved into a restless sleep. I kept my hand over her eyes and watched as she began seeing.  
  
I could see it in my mind, too.  
  
She was walking, the same path she had walked before, when she saw them. Three men surrounding a smoldering box, pounding their staffs onto the ground. Before them was a woman shackled to a tree. She had her eyes closed and was writhing in pain, her face and body full of white pain. One moved closer to her and spoke softly, his Swahili echoing in the vast desert. He moved down. He opened the box. Black smoke poured out and surrounded the girl, who's terrified screams echoed endlessly. The Slayer watched from a distance as the three men drew around her, speaking of her newfound strength. She had been chosen to stand against the forces of darkness that threatened to destroy them. Through the light of darkness, she would stand. Alone.  
  
The scenery changed. The Slayer was on top of the tower, telling her sister how much she loved her. To live. For her. The Slayer then turned and jumped. Far below, a witch was staring upwards, her face in disbelief. They managed to move. To escape. But I saw clearly that she was summoning her own strengths to stop it.  
  
The scene shifted again. The Slayer was in her house, talking to her friends. The witch. And the boy. They were discussing the Slayer's mother. The Mother was dying, and the Slayer was worried. She was crying. The true Slayer stands aside and watches, clearly, as the witch hugs the Slayer in the scene and utters words of comfort. The Slayer then moves up the stairs. We follow her. The Mother is in her bed, her face contorted in agony. The Slayer moves to her and sits down beside her. They speak in quiet voices about what to do with the Sister. The Slayer promises to take care of her, no matter what happens. The Mother makes her promise that nothing will ever happen to her, because it has given the Slayer a purpose to fight even harder. The Slayer smiles and walks away. Next to me, the Slayer is in tears.  
  
It's now dark. It's cold. The graveyard looks unfamiliar as the Slayer stands by freshly heaped earth, trembling. Vampires circle around her, yet she takes no notice of them. Her eyes are cast down at the earth, as though she were expecting a body to spring alive. She utters a eulogy for her Mother, something forgotten in the past. She bends down and touches the ground. 'I'm sorry I wasn't there to watch you die' she whispers before rising again. It's then that the Vampire joins her side, his hand into hers. As much as she needs him, he needs to feel the warmth of someone in pain. No matter how much love there is between the two, it's divided from darkness into light.  
  
I can now see what is happening in daylight. The Slayer and I walk into a cavern, where the witch, the boy, and the chipped vampire are fighting their way to a rock. Instead of the vampire fighting off the pack, it is the witch, uttering a curse and dispelling the lot. 'This woman is more powerful than you lot' the vampire snarls, before staking his last. The witch goes to the rock and looks down, finding the one trace left of the slayer. The guardians.   
  
The guardian steps from behind the rock and thanks them for protecting her. She was sent to watch over the priests who first gave the Slayer life. She stands guard over something precious, something only the Slayer can have, and that's the power she offers. The strength. The ability to survive.  
  
I close my eyes and slowly remove my hand from her face.  
  
She awakens with a gasp.  
  


* * * * *

  
  
I gasped and sat up with a start, lifting my gaze to the first, now circling the fire again. "Where do I find it?"  
  
"Inside," the slayer speaks. "You find strength inside. Fury. Passion. Innocence. All bottled inside." She pauses. "But outside, you have friends. A witch, more powerful than the priests who gave us life. A boy, the ability to see he has. The watcher, more wisdom and knowledge give him more power. The vampire, a fighter seeking redemption. He will never leave your side. And the guardian, the most sacred of all. She was the last surprise."  
  
"I need to find her for myself," I said quickly, glancing around. "Bring me back."  
  
"You alone can take yourself back," the first slayer replied. She drew closer to me and I pulled away, afraid. "Do not fear what you don't know. Take your challenges ahead. The stuttering witch will show you the guardian. She belongs with their world. One with it. I can speak through her for that."  
  
I tried to stand up. My legs buckled. "How can I go back?"  
  
"Want. To. Live."  
  
I wanted to live. More than anything. To see Willow and Xander again, my two closest friends in the world. And Giles. God knows what he's been through for the past...  
  
"How long have I been gone?"  
  
"Too long. They fight alone. They stand alone. Alone."  
  
"Not anymore," I replied tartly, finally rising. "To combine our strengths is stronger than fighting alone... you taught me that."  
  
"I taught you that no friends keeps you alive," the first slayer snarled. "Your friends have risen beyond power. Beyond Glory. They will stand together. Until the end."  
  
"I'm going back," I replied.  
  
She touched my face again with a sad smile. "Want. To. Live."  
  
I closed my eyes as I walked away, hugging myself. I continued to walk, until I disappeared into the light.  
  
And opened my eyes.


	3. Morning Girl

This chapter alternates between Giles and Buffy's POV. It does include a line from "Lie to Me", from Season Two. Disclamered.  
  
Thank you for the reviews =)  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 3  
Morning Girl**  
  
* * * * *  


  
I thought I had drifted off to sleep when I heard a small sound next to me. I turned my head and saw her. Her eyes were wide open, staring into mine. Beautiful, soft hazel eyes, filled with warmth. The last time I had seen those eyes was the same day she had told me that if her sister died, she would quit.  
  
But I saw those eyes now. There wasn't a trace left of bitterness or contempt, darkness or malice. All I saw was her eyes, shining at me.  
  
"Did I wake you?" she asked me softly, shifting slightly in her bed.  
  
I couldn't speak. I couldn't bloody well open my mouth. I just stared at her in disbelief. After nearly nine months of wishing, hoping and praying and it had all come down to this. I tried to shake my head, but even that wouldn't work. All I could do was stand there and gape until another body entered the room and gasped.  
  
It was Willow. She had frozen in the room, her own eyes wide as petrified stones. "B-B-Buffy?" she finally managed to choke out.  
  
Buffy turned to her and smiled, a weak, tainted smile. "Hi, Will."  
  
Willow looked as though she were going to pass out. I knew I wasn't going to be of any help to her, so I glanced at her and glanced at the door, hoping she would get the message. She did. "I'll just get the nurse," she stuttered, before rushing from the room. Down the hall, I could hear her shrieks.   
  
I still couldn't do much except stare at the vibrant, beautiful face. The feelings inside me were welling, as though I had found something I had lost, so dear and precious, so long ago. She turned her gaze to me, so innocent, so pure, I couldn't pull my eyes away.  
  
The Doctor ran into the room, an astonished look on his face. "It's a miracle!" he gushed.  
  
Yes, she was a miracle. She always had been. Probably always would be.   
  
The Doctor was scanning her now, checking her vitals, asking how many fingers and other pointless questions. Part of me wanted to get him out so that I could have a precious moment alone with my Slayer. The other half of me was still wondering if I was dreaming. I had to be. It had been eight months since she'd opened her eyes and said anything. The scrapes and bruises and fractures had since healed, but her head, that had been the worst. Like Faith, I thought to myself. Just like Faith.   
  
I was still gazing at her even as a second Doctor, a neurologist, stepped in to ask more pointless questions. I could see that Buffy was growing annoyed with the questions and the concerns that both Doctors were showing. I was even getting annoyed and I was still too stunned to utter a single word.  
  
The moment they stepped out the door, I finally pulled myself together. I hadn't known the right words to say. Until now. "Good morning, Buffy," I said, with an anxious smile as I took my seat again, reaching for her hand. "How's my morning girl?"  
  
She gave me a weak smile, her eyes rolling back. For a moment, I thought I'd lost her again. "Tired. Strong. Alive." She reached up a trembling hand, still attached to the IV. "Want to live."  
  
"I quite imagine you might," I said gingerly. She quickly swung her gaze back to me, her head tilting ever so slightly back and forth.  
  
"No," she whispered. "My spirit guides. They told me to be strong, to get strong, I had to live. I had to want to live."  
  
"Do you?" I asked, knowing this could be the most critical question of all. Faith had wanted to live, but to satisfy her vengeance. Buffy's only vengeance would be on herself, for taking the jump that nearly cost her life.   
  
She stared at me with her hazel eyes, unmoving, unblinking. Just staring.  
  


* * * * *

  
  
What kind of question is that, I asked myself as he kept gazing at me, with that look of both contempt and irritation. I knew that being interrogated and checked over by my Doctors had rattled him. I could understand why. He was the one who had been by my side when I had awoken. Not Dawn. Not Spike. Giles.  
  
"I do," I replied softly, squeezing his hand that so gently held mine. "I always wanted to. I just didn't know how to get back."  
  
"Your strength?" he asked, his voice hushed, as though he didn't want anyone to overhear I had mystical healing powers. "Is it coming back?"  
  
I nodded, gazing curiously at him. I would have thought that if he was by my bed, he would be involved with a book. On the contrary, I saw an electric teapot, his guitar case, a suitcase open with clothes hanging on a rack in a far corner. "Wow, Giles," I breathed, glancing from one end of the room to the other. "You really set up your own hotel here."  
  
"I wanted to be here," he replied gently. "I wanted to make sure that..."  
  
"I wouldn't be like Faith?" I finished for him. He gazed up at me, and judging by the flash of his eyes, my intuition had scored. "I know she betrayed us, Giles. I know she turned reckless when she woke up from her coma. It never happened with me, because I knew who I was when I was sleeping."  
  
Giles glanced down a moment then looked up, a tender look crossing his face. "You truly are the workings of a miracle," he said softly, touching my face as he sat down on my bed. I could feel his weight next to me. It was comforting, really, to feel his body heat so close, when I had been so alone.   
  
But it was the strangest feeling, overcoming me. Giles had never been this close to me before. The way he was holding my hand and speaking of my brief departure from death was making me believe that something had happened. "Is something wrong?" I finally asked him.  
  
He didn't get the chance to reply. The door to my room burst open and Willow, Tara and Xander poured in, all gasping, gushing and crying out. Giles stood up and released my hand. I quickly moved my own back to my lap and turned my attention toward my friends, distributing new balloons, flowers and gift baskets.  
  
"Dawn wanted to be here, but it's the middle of the night for her," Tara apologized as she handed Giles a fruit basket. "You should eat healthy here. The hospital food will kill you."  
  
I smiled, mostly to appease them, but my eyes flittered toward Giles, who was standing, arms crossed, staring at the fruit basket. "Is that a pineapple?" he asked, his tone edgy. Tara nodded. "How is she supposed to eat a pineapple."  
  
"We can take it home," Willow said quickly over the silence that ensued. "I'm sure Dawn would enjoy it."  
  
"Dawn doesn't eat pineapple," I said in confusion, this time looking at Xander.   
  
Xander shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Dawnie does a lot of things that big sis wouldn't understand," he said quietly.  
  
I understood what Giles had been so strange about. I turned back to him. "How long have I been asleep?"  
  
"Almost nine months," Willow said, interrupting Giles as he cleaned his glasses.   
  
"Nine months?" I gasped, sitting up. A sudden ache hit my head, but I ignored it as I stared at the IV tubes attached to both of my hands. "Why didn't anyone ever try and wake me?"  
  
"The best doctors in the world were trying to save you, Buffy," Tara insisted. "It was just that we couldn't reach you."  
  
"But you were there," I replied. The hint of panic in the room ceased as everyone turned in confusion to Tara. "You were the one that told me she wanted to see me."  
  
"Who?" Giles asked.  
  
"My spirit guides," I replied, keeping my eyes locked on Tara, who was starting to back away behind Willow. "You told me that she would explain my strength, and she did. The First Slayer told me to know my strength from those around me." I glanced at each one of them, her words echoing in my mind. "I'll tell you later, because right now, my head hurts."  
  
Xander was the first to move, getting a bedpan as I doubled over, the pain in my head now staggering my movements. Nine months in a coma and my first ten minutes were spent either in arguments or bending over vomiting in a bedpan.  
  
After Xander had left the room, Giles gently pushed me back down while Willow was quick to pour a glass of water. I sipped it, but the nausea was still bubbling deep inside me. I choked it down and handed the flimsy plastic cup back before I closed my eyes. "Can they give me anything for the pain?"  
  
"I'll go see," Willow said, taking Tara's hand as they, too, left the room.  
  
Giles stood next to me, his eyes full of concern. Even though my eyes were closed, I could see the strange look he was giving me. "I'll be fine," I insisted. "I just need to adjust, that's all. And maybe once I sleep, I'll feel better."  
  
He nodded, but when I opened my eyes, he didn't look too convinced. "There's a whole new world out there, Buffy. There's demons that have appeared from nowhere. Dawn is even fighting, sparring."  
  
I didn't have the heart to ask what he meant by that. All I knew was that my sixteen year old sister was out there fighting vampires, and I was laying in a hospital bed, vomiting up my rejection of reality.  
  
I kept my silence, even when the Doctor and his nurse returned to my room to check my vitals again and give me a painkiller. After a quick word of surprise about my speedy recovery, they left, the morphine now tucked safely in my bloodstream from an IV drip.  
  


* * * * *

  
  
I watched her face as the IV continually dripped the drug into her system. She was weakening, I could feel it. I could also see it. She was struggling to stay awake, struggling to come to terms with the news she had heard, but I knew that sleep would overcome her. I wanted to tell her not to fight it, but I couldn't find it within myself to tell her.  
  
Soon enough, though, her eyes closed and her breathing became regular.  
  
And I sat down. And began to worry.  
  
Perhaps she'd thought only a few weeks had passed since she'd toppled from the tower. Perhaps she had expected everyone to jovially welcome her back. It had been so difficult without her, yet it had been her decision. Her sacrifice.  
  
My Slayer was truly waking up to a new morning. She had taken a deep sleep, and was returning, well rested, for what might lie ahead. In her case, that meant the weight of the world was back on her, and nothing I could do would stop her from slipping back into a trance.   
  
As I sat back down, I plugged in my teapot and took my last teabag out, slipping it into my mug as I thought. There had to be something I could do. My Slayer wasn't too far gone. Not yet. She still managed to care about things. That was why her body had had such a horrid reaction to the news.   
  
The teapot started whistling and I poured the steeping water into my cup and sipped silently, keeping a watchful eye on the girl who's life I was supposed to protect.  
  


* * * * *

  
  
I woke several hours later. It had to have been hours, because the pain in my head was gone, and the lights were dim. There were reflections of light behind the blinds, making me think that morning had come and maybe had passed. I lifted my head and sat up.  
  
Across from me, sprawled in a chair, was Giles. Next to him was his faithful mug, a teabag still inside, a quarter cup of ice-cold tea still sitting in the bottom. I stifled a smile as my eyes wandered over him. Even in his tweed coat and sharp-appearing pants he looked ever the part of my Watcher.  
  
I glanced next to me and saw the guitar case he'd had in my room. Knowing that my curiousity would some day get me killed, I bent down and picked it up, testing my strength. It was surprising light, which I found out was because the guitar wasn't inside but was propped against the back wall. I shook my head and turned over the leather case, slightly surprised when I saw the small, gold print on the edge.  
  
He'd had his guitar case embroidered.  
  
That Giles.  
  
I gently ran my fingers over the inscription. Rupert William Giles.  
  
"Bloody hell," I whispered. I'd been hanging with Spike far too long.  
  
My words seemed to shake Giles from his sleep as he jumped and sat up, rumpling his suit further. I quickly pushed the guitar case off my bed, watching it bounce as it hit the floor, and slammed my back on the bed, closing my eyes.  
  
But Giles wasn't fooled that easily. He gazed at me with a questioning eye and turned, picking up his cup. "Good morning, Buffy."  
  
"Morning," I said, opening my mouth into a yawn. He was still not fooled as he dumped his teabag and rinsed his cup. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Perfectly fine, yes," he replied, carefully wiping out the inside of his mug and returning it next to the teapot. "And yourself?"  
  
"I've been better," I said, dolefully looking at the hospital bed and the small, scant room.  
  
"I quite imagine you are."  
  
"Giles..."  
  
He glanced at me before removing his glasses. "I know what you're thinking, Buffy. Does it ever get any easier? I'll lie to you. Yes, it's terribly simple. The good guys are always stalwart and true. The bad guys are easily distinguished by the pointy horns or black hats. And, uh, we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after."  
  
I averted my gaze from him as he slipped his glasses back on. "I was going to ask about your guitar case. Is your middle name really William?"  
  
He was silent for a moment. "Oh. That." He walked over and lifted his guitar case, staring at the embroidery as though he'd never seen it. "Yes, it certainly is."  
  
"Why did I not know that?" I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion.  
  
"Perhaps because you thought it best to never ask?" he replied with a shrug. "You never did ask me about my middle name. Or my birthday. Or even who my parents were."  
  
I thought about that a moment. I turned back to him. "I have time now," I said softly, "don't I?"  
  
"You're leaving in three days," Giles replied in a heavy voice. "I don't have time to go around telling you stories of my existence, no matter how bored you might seem. There's nothing that important that can be learned from my life."  
  
I leaned back on my bed, my eyes sparkling at the thought of Giles entertaining me with his stories. "Enlighten me."  
  
"Well," Giles began. "About twenty years ago...."  
  


* * * * *

  
Next part will be posted tomorrow! I hope you liked this! 


	4. Three Days

Because it'll be another day till I post the next chapter, this one's a bit longer, for your enjoyment. Many thanks to the beta Grace for taking the time to this over. This Chapter is alternating Giles and Buffy POV again. Enjoy!  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 4  
Three Days  
  
** * * * * *  
  


It was that afternoon when I first noticed the people pouring in. Willow and Tara had returned that afternoon, paper bags of food in hand, which they surrendered to me. I peeked inside the bag, slightly relieved to see a bagel with cream cheese. Tucked inside the napkin was another teabag, something else I was also relieved to see.  
  
Considering I'd used my last one the night before.  
  
With a grateful smile at the women I turned and plugged in my teapot, realizing this was probably the last time I was going to do it.   
  
Buffy was sitting near me, her eyes were still closed but I could tell she wasn't sleeping, even though Willow and Tara were using quiet, hushed voices. It wasn't until I cleared my throat that Buffy opened her eyes and glanced at her visitors. Her face brightened considerably when she saw her friends. "Hey."  
  
"Hey," Willow said, her voice trembling a bit in her usual style. She lifted her hand in greeting. Next to her, Tara smiled hers.   
  
Buffy's gaze fell onto her fruit basket as an uncomfortable silence ensued. I could see her mouth watering at the thought of eating the apples and pears stacked inside. With a chuckle, I turned to Willow. "Could you open that for her?"  
  
"I may be in the hospital, but I'm not handicapped," Buffy replied in a cheerful voice, pulling the basket into her lap and pulling at the large red velvet bow on top. "Because I'm not... unless... I am and don't know?"  
  
"You are not handicapped in any way," I said sharply, sending a quick glance toward Willow, who had opened her mouth. She shut it when she saw my eyes and looked down at her shoes.   
  
Buffy was absentmindedly prodding the bow and didn't notice my response. Finally, she just pulled at the plastic surrounding the fruit buckled. We watched as the pears, bananas and apples tumbled over the sides, spilling onto the floor with moist plops, all rolling in different directions and staining the white linoleum with the scent of mushed fruit.  
  
"Oops," she whispered, her eyes wide as she peered over the edge of the bed. "I made the fruit roll."  
  
Willow was the first to react and lifted an orange off the ground, polishing it on the sleeve of her jacket before offering it back to Buffy, who took it gingerly. "Thanks," she said, smiling at her friend who stepped back to Tara. As she peeled the orange, she kept her gaze averted. "How's Dawn?"  
  
The women exchanged a worried glance. "Now, Buffy," began Willow, "don't get me wrong but don't you want to wait a day before you see her?"  
  
Buffy glanced up, orange peel slipping from her fingers. "Why would I want to wait that long? I've waited almost nine months, haven't I?"  
  
They exchanged another look. "Well," said Tara, shifting from one foot to the other. "It's not that she doesn't want to see you. Believe me, she does. It's just that things are a bit busier around the house since you... left. We've all had to make certain sacrifices. Especially Dawn."  
  
"Dawn. Has. Had. To. Do. What?"  
  
Tara cleared her throat before speaking again. "She's had to get a job, Buffy. A real job. Not anything dangerous, mind you, but she needed something paying to keep up with the bills. Willow and I live there now, at the house. We do what we can, but when your mother died, she left you a bit, but your hospital bills have completely left us in a bit of debt."  
  
"So you're telling me," Buffy concluded as she plucked a piece of orange and bit into it, "that I'm bedridden and I'm broke?"  
  
"Yeah," Tara said with a nervous smile. "Although the Watcher's Council has given you a generous donation, since you did jump for their cause... that money has paid off the debt, somewhat..."  
  
"I can't be hearing this," Buffy muttered, swallowing hard and staring at the remains of the orange in her lap. "I'm losing the first appetite I've had this year and you're telling me that not only am I broke but I'm accepting charity money?"  
  
I felt it was the time to intervene. "It isn't charity money, Buffy. Over the past few months, the Council has decided that maybe the time has come to reward the Slayer for all of her hard work."  
  
"I stake a vampire," Buffy replied, "I get a shiny penny?"  
  
"It was a rather large amount," Tara replied with a nod. "Tell her Giles."  
  
Why did they have to ask me to relay the amount? I uttered it. I could tell she had heard because her eyes widened and she turned back to her orange, slipping a piece inside her mouth. "What else has my sister been up to?"  
  
"She's dating now," Willow replied regretfully, speaking slowly, as though she were hesitant to bring up all of the details. "She's dating a senior."  
  
"My sister is dating an upperclassman?" Buffy asked incredulously. "And she has a job. What's next? Tattoo? Fancy car? College?"  
  
"She's sixteen years old, Buffy," Willow replied softly. "Even while you were sleeping, she had to do something with her life. She was seriously grieving. Before school started again, she was in here every day, every time, waiting, hoping, praying. We all were, Buffy."  
  
"I'm not angry," Buffy replied. I could see that she really wasn't. Surprised, maybe, but not angry. "My little sister has really grown up?"  
  
"She really has," said Willow softly. "And I regret that you weren't there to see it. Her first prom and everything."  
  
There were tears in her eyes now. "She must have been beautiful."  
  
She had been. I had been there, chaperoning the prom, mainly because Dawn volunteered me and Anya wanted me to leave the store for a night so she could count the money. Why she was so eager to rid of me, I had no idea. Maybe it was because I hovered a lot.   
  
I would have to watch that.  
  
I hadn't heard Willow's response and turned back. Only the shrill whistle of my teapot woke me from my thoughts and I poured my mug and sipped while they talked. Buffy looked even more awake than she had last night when she'd first woken up.  
  
"When do you think she'll come?" Buffy was asking softly as she finished the last slice of her orange and dumped the peel on the small tray next to her bed.   
  
"Spike will bring her by after work," Tara said. "She's with him tonight while the four of us patrol."  
  
"Without Spike?" I asked, interrupting Buffy's words. "I thought it was dangerous... a dangerous time." I gave them another earnest look and they exchanged yet another look.  
  
"We'll be fine," Willow said. "I have more control over my demon-shrinking spell now... after all, I did manage to restore Xander to normal size after my last jinx backfired."  
  
I was more concerned now. Not about their safety, but leaving my team in the hands of a witch who couldn't control a simple shrinking spell. Shrugging it off, I sipped my tea.  
  
"What time is it?" Buffy asked, staring at the walls. "I don't see a clock."  
  
"Half past four," Tara replied, checking her watch on the underside of her wrist. "We should probably be going soon. Dawn will be home from school and she needs to work by seven."  
  
"Where does she work?" Buffy asked, eyeing another piece of fruit still inside the basket. She reached over and took out the pear and bit into it.  
  
"The Sunnydale Mall, the bookstore. She makes coffee."  
  
"Respectable," I replied. "Not to mention that store has the finest selection of tea this side of the Atlantic."  
  
Buffy smiled as she swallowed her bite of pear. "Not bad for my little sis."  
  
"She'll be here either late tonight or early tomorrow," Willow said, now looking very much like she wanted to leave. "If she doesn't show up tonight, it's because she's worked late or she's-" She cut off as Tara elbowed her ribs. "She's... sleeping. Yeah."  
  
I didn't believe her for one moment nor did I think Buffy. But Buffy was concentrating on the fruit as she glanced to her two friends. "I'll see you tomorrow?"  
  
"Yes," Tara said, taking Willow's arm and heading toward the doorway. "We'll see you tomorrow."  
  
Buffy watched them leave, a soft, pensive look on her face. "Giles?" she asked, her voice small. "Is there something going on?"  
  
I didn't want to answer that. My only response was a shrug as I drained the last sip of tea and set my mug aside. "Not that I know of, Buffy," I said, easing my face into a gentle smile and scooping away her garbage. "Maybe you should rest. Dawn most likely won't show up till tomorrow. It's Saturday then. She can sleep tonight. She needs her rest."  
  
Buffy opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. "Okay," she said slowly, watching as I collected the fruit from the ground and disposed of it. "Are you going to stay here tonight?"  
  
I hadn't thought of that. My decision had been to go home and rest when she'd woken up, but now I wasn't sure. "Would you like me to?"  
  
She nodded. I noticed there was still fear in her eyes. "Then I will," I smiled.  
  
I glanced at her grateful smile as she laid down, her eyes closing as her head made contact with the pillow. "Thank you," she whispered, opening her eyes and glancing at me as I stood over her bed. "Thank you for being here for me."  
  
"It's been my pleasure," I said, patting her shoulder as I turned away and sat down.  
  
I waited until she fell asleep before I opened my guitar case and removed my guitar, strumming a few strings, watching the soft light glow on her face, feeling like there was nothing in the world that could cease my emotions now.  
  
However, I still had two days to test my theory.  
  


* * * * *  
  


I had woken up just shortly before noon. I felt lightheaded and groggy, as though I'd been drugged. Shrugging off that feeling, I glanced around my room. Giles, for the first time since I'd awoken, had disappeared. I tried to sit up on my bed and moved to the foot so I could see out the partly opened door. I couldn't see him.  
  
Where had he gone? He had been there the night before. Knowing it was right before noon, I felt a bit unsettled about the fact I'd slept nearly twenty hours without so much as an interruption by my sister.  
  
Dawnie. Where was she? I missed her. I almost needed to see her, most of all. After all, my sacrifice had been for her.   
  
I waited for nearly twenty minutes for anyone to walk inside. During that time, I devoured an apple that was sitting on my tray and stared at the small stack of magazines. Vogue. A Cosmopolitan. Interesting reading, I thought as I set them aside, but not really what I was in the mood for.  
  
A gentle knock sounded at my door. I glanced up.  
  
There she was, standing there. My sister.  
  
How she had changed during this time. Her hair was shorter and highlighted, bouncing above her shoulders with a lovely curl. She wore more makeup now, around the eyes especially. She had also grown taller. And her clothes were carefully picked out, I could tell. She was wearing her bookstore uniform. My eyes misted over and I could tell hers were too.  
  
She walked slowly into my room, as though she were afraid to ask me anything. Finally, I opened my arms and with a small cry she ran into them. I held onto her a long moment, finally convinced she was alive, finally convinced she was fine. As she pulled back, I could see the tears had trickled down her cheeks. "Dawnie."  
  
"Buffy, it's really you," she whispered, her face shining. "You're really alive."  
  
"I am," I choked out, pulling her close again. I could feel her trying to pull away and finally let her go. "Dawnie," I continued, repeating her name, enjoying the sensation on my tongue, "how are you?"  
  
Dawn shrugged as she sat down next to me, taking my hand. "I'm okay," she said softly. "It's been a hard few weeks. I have state testing coming up soon, and work has been busier with the summer season approaching. Lots of new books. And we started a new coffee line this week."  
  
I couldn't help it. I started crying. I watched her alarm and felt terrible about it, but I really couldn't help myself. My little sister really was grown up. And I told her.  
  
She smiled and squeezed my hand. "Things have changed since I last saw you awake," she replied gently. "I'm dating now. He's a senior, can you believe it? I'm a sophomore dating a senior. And I have a job. And I'm patroling. I have all this scary real-life stuff going on and I've had no one to talk to about any of it."  
  
I reached over and tucked a lock of her highlighted hair behind her ear. "I'm here now, Dawn," I replied. "You can talk to me. You can tell me anything."  
  
She smiled and looked away. "I wish I could tell you some things, but you probably already know." I could tell she was fighting back tears again. "I spent some time in counseling after you first fell. I had a lot of trouble dealing with finals, the near-death of my sister and your friends were all completely unglued. Spike really held the group together. Yeah," she continued, noting the look of skepticism on my face, "Spike really came through for us. He was strong and brave and loyal... he's been fighting by our sides. And Giles has been amazing. He's been more of a friend to me these past six months, when things started getting really hard..."  
  
I squeezed her hand and smiled at her, encouraging her to continue.  
  
"Like driver's education. I still haven't gotten my license yet, but I have taken lessons from Giles. That snappy new convertible of his? So fun to drive. Spike took me out one day in his car. Yeah, I couldn't see anything. All that black paint. It's a wonder he's never crashed into anything. I was completely surprised when I took my last driver's lesson last month. I'm getting really good. We should probably practice. I'd love to show you what I can do."  
  
I laughed softly and sighed. "I've missed so much of your life, Dawnie. How can I ever get the past nine months back?"  
  
She smiled sadly. "I wish there was a way," she whispered. "I've had my first dance, my first kiss, my first of everything, and my first sister wasn't there to see me."  
  
"I'm glad I can see you now," I replied with a grim smile. "I'm glad I'll be able to see you graduate, to attend senior prom. To see you get married..."  
  
"Can you say jumping the gun?" Dawn squeaked, her eyes wide. "I'm only sixteen! The next thing you'll be suggesting is babies and menopause."  
  
I had to laugh. I hugged her again, still laughing.  
  
"When are you coming home?" she suddenly asked.  
  
"Tomorrow," I replied, feeling a flutter of excitement in my chest. I was indeed going home tomorrow to finish my last day of bedrest before assuming my old duties. "Will you be around tomorrow?"  
  
"I work until four," she replied sadly. "But I'll be home after that. We're making a special dinner tomorrow night, for Giles."  
  
"Why?" I asked in confusion.   
  
"His birthday?" Dawn reminded me, absentmindedly flipping through my stack of magazines. "Don't tell me you forgot."  
  
"I never knew," I whispered, racking my brain for the trace reminder of when he might have told me his own birthdate. "Are you certain it is tomorrow?"  
  
"February nineteenth," she replied, her own eyes narrowing in confusion. "But you should see what Willow and Tara got for him. A gift certificate. To the mall. He's going shopping tomorrow to buy himself something other than tweed. They made him promise. They got him a certificate to the leather store."  
  
I was shocked now. Giles. My Giles? Buying leather?  
  
I shook my head. "I think I missed ten years instead of nine months," I muttered, holding my head. "Has the world ended and bled into some heavenly dimension too?"  
  
"Oh, that," Dawn said, gesturing aside. "We had another apocalypse about three months ago. Nothing too major, just a few members of a nasty coven in the Los Angeles underground, decided they wanted a piece of some temple that would suck the world into hell. Nothing too serious."  
  
My eyes were wide. "And you lived?"  
  
"Sort of," Dawn replied in a whisper. "I broke a few ribs, a wrist... almost got my skull, but luckily I was already knocked out." She smirked when she saw the look of abject terror on my face. "It wasn't a dangerous fight. Willow and Tara really came through for us, and Anya even invited some of her old demon friends to help. It was almost like a circus except it really wasn't."  
  
I sighed again. "The thought of anyone hurting my Dawn is enough to give me convulsions for a month, you know."  
  
She laughed, a soothing sound. "You really need to get out of here."  
  
"I really do," I replied. "How much longer do you have?"  
  
"Only a few minutes," she replied, checking her watch. "I work in twenty six minutes."  
  
I started laughing again, only this time it sounded hollow. "I suppose you should probably go then."  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, you know," she said, hugging me tight. "There's really no need to get all teary."  
  
"I know," I sniffled. "I'm just so glad to see you're alive, that's all."  
  
She gave me a reassuring smile and one last hug goodbye before leaving.  
  
And I watched her leave, feeling as though some of the humanity I'd lost in the past three quarters of the year had suddenly found itself again.  
  
I'd reclaimed my sense of family.


	5. Candles

Thank you for your reviews!  
  
To answer a few questions that did come up... my story is an alternate universe set after Season 5, meaning Seasons 6 and 7 never happened. I'm actually doing this in response to a challenge "It Never Happened". I'll supply the link later because I'm too lazy to look for it now. This is because I would never have thought to write anything like this until my beta asked if anyone would write her a Buffy/Giles story. This isn't my pairing, but I'm quite enjoying it.  
  
I also know that this is an unconventional relationship... but then, when have I been known to write conventional ones? I'm not going to erase the negative critiques, because, blatantly, they want to read what they want to read and they just happened to look at Inamorata.   
  
As for Points of View, this chapter and the next are in varying other characters, but still relating to the original story.  
  
This Chapter varies between 2 POVs... (so complicated, eh?) Anya and Xander. The next chapter will be posted tomorrow!  
  
Reviews are most welcome!  
  


* * * * *   
  
** Chapter 5  
Candles  
  
** * * * * *  
  


I had just finished folding the napkins into swans when the familiar sounds of car doors opening and closing brought me to the door, wiping my hands on the new white apron Xander had bought me, which read 'If Cooks Could Kill'. I stood by the stairs and planted an automatic smile on my face.  
  
Above me, Willow yelled for the others to come down. I turned and saw Xander emerging from the basement, dragging a large set of chains. Willow and Tara quickly jogged down the stairs, waiting at the front door until...  
  
It opened and Giles stepped inside.  
  
"Surprise!" I cried out, throwing my arms around him. He seemed taken aback but accepted the other hugs and kisses.  
  
"What's the occasion?" he asked in a confused voice, setting a large paper bag aside. "I won't pick Buffy up until sometime this afternoon."  
  
"Because today," I said, my mind automatically flipping in reverse to the speech I had prepared to give at dinner that night. No matter, I thought. He could hear it twice. It'd be a good boost to his ego. "Fifty five years ago you were born. And we want to celebrate that. With liquor. And scotch. Lots and lots of scotch. And-"  
  
"An, honey," Xander chuckled, placing his hands on my shoulders, nearly biting off the circulation. I turned and growled under my breath. Anyone standing near me could have heard the words 'that's the last time I turn you upside down'.  
  
Giles was beyond pleased though. His look of confusion had melted away into a look of respect and a look of complete surprise. "I'm surprised you even know of my birthday."  
  
"I know things," I burst out. Everyone turned to look at me. "Well I do!" I insisted. "I was alive when you were born. I have over a millenium on all of you."  
  
"It's quite all right, Anya," he said with a strained smile as he closed the door behind him and retreated into the kitchen, all four of us following behind. "I was thinking that perhaps since tonight is Buffy's first night home, we should be gentle on her."  
  
"No way," Willow said, shaking her head. "Buffy needs to know that her friends are behind her. We've spent a lot of time decorating this place for a party and we won't let her down."  
  
The words on Giles' tongue died as he glanced around. The decorations were tropical almost, Hawaiian at the least. Large silk flowers and paper lanterns decorated the walls. Fake palm trees had been erected near doorways. The plates were tropical pink and aquamarine, and the serving dishes looked suspiciously like large flamingoes and surfboards.  
  
I could tell he was utterly perplexed. "I used the money from the raise you gave me in order to buy these wonderful crafts," I plundered on, reaching for my favorite decoration sitting on the edge of the island, a small duck. I picked it up and squeezed its belly. It's mouth opened and its tongue came out, with the words 'quack quack, don't take me back. Buy me now or don't look back'.  
  
"You bought a charmed duck?" Willow asked in a hushed voice, plucking it from my hands. "These things are cheap! And dirty! I once heard it clung to a woman's leg because she wouldn't buy it for her daughter."  
  
"Hence the warning label," I replied, taking back the duck and returning it to its rightful place. "It does say to not look back."  
  
"That could have a hundred different intonations," Giles replied, removing his glasses to clean them. "It could mean don't look at your backside, or it could mean that if you were perhaps to glance back, you would turn into salt."  
  
We all stared at him for a moment until he replaced his glasses. "I'm just saying," he said, his tone slightly defensive.   
  
I shrugged it off as I stared mournfully at my duck. "I just thought it was adorable, hex or not."  
  
"Yes, it is very adorable, Anya, honey," Xander said in a loud voice, which I knew was mainly for my own benefit. I gritted my teeth together as Willow took water out of the fridge and poured glasses. "Your shopping taste is definitely..."  
  
I rolled my eyes and stood up. "You were going to say juvenille, weren't you? My tastes are childish to you? I'm one thousand years old, Xander! I don't need a shopping taste. I've created my own, thank you."  
  
There was silence in the room as all eyes were trained on me. After a beat, I planted my smile back on my face and took the glass of water Giles was handing me. "Thank you, Giles!" I said. He gave me a tired smile and I sipped the water, taking the stool Xander had been sitting on just a moment before.  
  
"What time are you going to get Buffy?" Willow asked, returning the pitcher to the fridge and removing a tray of vegetables.   
  
"Ooh," said Dawn, popping into the kitchen in her work uniform. "Snacks." She plucked a carrot stick as she blew through the kitchen. "Ready to go, Giles?"  
  
"You're taking the Bit in the new car?" I asked, part of me shocked that I realized Giles had shown up to drive Dawn to work and the other part shocked that he would let this sixteen-year-old hormone freak drive his new convertible before he'd let me touch it.  
  
"I take my test in two weeks, Anya," Dawn replied, crunching through her carrot. "Save some food for me, Willow?"  
  
Willow nodded. Dawn smiled, satisfied, picked up another carrot and swept through the back door. Giles glanced at me before he followed her out. "Have you ever taken driver's training?" I just stared at him. "I think not," he replied, closing the door quietly behind him.  
  
"But..." I sputtered angrily, "they didn't have any cars when I was sixteen! All they had was oxen! And trolls!"  
  
"You mean all we have to do to keep you happy is rent an ox?"  
  
I turned and glared over my shoulder at Willow, who was stirring her celery stalk in dill dip.   
  
"It was just a suggestion!" she insisted, taking a bite. "Why don't you just bite my head off?"  
  
"Well, if you close your eyes and wish really, really hard," I retorted.  
  
Xander's well-placed hand over my mouth kept me from continuing further. As hard as I tried to bite him, he held me back. "An, honey, we still have some cleaning to do upstairs before Buffy gets home. Now."  
  
He released my mouth and I twirled on him. He ignored my indignant look, seized my hand, and pulled me upstairs.  
  


* * * * *  
  


I was waiting by the window, listening for the sound of car tires and doors. As I waited, I rested my head against the wall, trying to soothe the anxiety that was close to overwhelming me. Anya was sound asleep on the couch behind me, after two hours of intense dusting and wall washing.   
  
It was the perfect time for me to collect my thoughts. Nearly nine months ago, my best friend had sacrificed herself to save the world. If she hadn't been a superheroine with superpowers, she would have been the ultimate sacrifice. That was almost overwhelming to think about. What would have happened to Dawn? And what about Willow and I, who had been through everything with Buffy for the past five years?  
  
In just five seconds, I had nearly lost my best friend.  
  
It was true that I had fallen apart. I hadn't been much of a support, anything of a rock. I hadn't really cared, either. All my thoughts were back on her, the way she looked at me, as though I were her equal and not some dysfunctional member of the group.  
  
"Xander?" Willow called from the kitchen. "Where are you?"  
  
"I'm in here," I said, and heaving a heavy sigh, followed the sound of her voice, where she and Tara stood around a large two-tier birthday cake. Tara was using small candy decals to spell out G-I-L-E-S across the top tier while Willow stood next to her, a knife covered in chocolate icing in her hand.   
  
"Could you get the candles? They're in the drawer over there," Willow replied, gesturing with the knife as she finished icing the bottom tier. Tara had finished with the letters and had picked up the cake decorator, squeezing small blue flowers on the edge of the top tier.  
  
I went to the drawer and opened it. I had pulled too hard and the drawer fell on the ground, dislodging everything inside. I bent down and removed the box of candles when my eye caught onto something else. It was a photograph, taken during our first month together. It was back when we were in high school.  
  
Seeing the photograph choked me up as I turned to Willow, who glanced up at me impatiently. "What is it?" I showed it to her. She paused, a subdued look falling over her face as she took the photograph in frosting-laced hands. I could see the emotion spread across her face as she lovingly set the picture aside. "Xander..."  
  
"Don't, Will," I said, begging her not to look at me as I placed the candles on the island. I turned back to avoid her gaze as I swept the contents of the drawer back into the box and put the drawer away.   
  
Outside, a car door clanked shut. I glanced behind me to Willow, who was hurriedly trying to put the cake out of sight. Anya sprang from nowhere, demanding to know where her serving dishes were. Tara was grabbing the candles, pulling five out and shoving the box back to the island, hurriedly pushing them into the top tier. I took a deep breath, stood up, and went to the front door, opening it as I heard voices behind the heavy wood.  
  
I found myself face to face with her.   
  
She looked even more stunning than the first day I had ever laid eyes on her. "Buffy," I said in a voice choked with emotion. I stepped up and wrapped my arms around her. I could feel her arms around me, her voice softly calling my name over and over. "Welcome home," I concluded, giving her a watery smile.  
  
As we walked inside, Buffy took in the tropical decor with such grace I was surprised. Anya came from the kitchen, still wearing her apron, her surfboard serving tray in her hands. "Snail stuffed mushroom?" she asked cheerfully, practically shoving the tray under Buffy's nose. Buffy stared in horror at the twelve little mushrooms stuffed with seasoned snails.  
  
"I think I'll pass."  
  
I took her arm and lead her into the kitchen, where Tara was busy pulling two litres of soda from the fridge and Willow was rearranging her cheese tray. "I hope you don't mind our little homecoming party, but today is also Giles' birthday."  
  
"Which I never knew about," she said slowly, turning to look at Giles, her expression hurt.  
  
"You never asked," he said in an impatient tone, sneaking a slice of cheese from the tray.   
  
She turned to me. "So who else have you invited?"  
  
"A few friends," Anya replied enthusiastically, setting down the surfboard and lunging for the aquamarine plastic bowl full of potato chips. "And a few undead neighbors."  
  
Spike. He was coming. I could see the look of interest and slight fear in her eyes, but it vanished with her bubbled reply. I didn't hear it, I was too busy focusing on her eyes that I completely lost touch with the flow of conversation around me.  
  
Buffy. Spike. In the same room. In only a few hours.  
  
"This is going to get interesting," Anya muttered at my elbow.  
  
Yes. It certainly was going to be.


	6. Homecoming

Another question to answer... WIP means Work in Progress, which is exactly what this is. I did promise 10 chapters by Friday and I plan to keep my deadline (aren't I ambitious?) even though the story will run longer. AU means Alternate Universe, which is something that is outside of the boundaries of what the show itself was. In other words, everything you've been reading never happened... it's part of an alternate reality. I hope this helped clarify things!  
  
POV's in this chapter are... Buffy and Willow. Next chapter will have two more POV's.  
  
Next chapter will either come late tonight or early tomorrow.  
  
Reviews are more than welcome!  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 6  
Homecoming  
  
** * * * * *  
  


It was just after dark when I stepped outside, trying to shake off the melancoly that had followed me through my path from the kitchen to the front porch.  
  
It had been really, really great to see all of my friends again. Dawn had brought her best friend from school and her new boyfriend. It was a shame I had come to like him. He seemed to treat her really well and really seemed into her, which I was relieved by. The last guy who'd been into me like that was, well, dead.  
  
I really was home, I thought. I could hear Xander and Anya in the living room, shouting at Dawn in the kitchen to bring more chips. It really wasn't anything like the party I'd had the first time I came home after leaving Sunnydale, after I'd killed Angel. That had been an emotional event. It was kind of like tonight, only not as many people. They seemed to be celebrating Giles' birthday, and I hadn't even come up with a good excuse for a gift yet.  
  
I stared longingly into the night, desperate to go down the steps and back into the world. A good kill or two might take my mind off of things, but I decided against it. This was, after all, my homecoming party.  
  
I turned to go back inside, when a cigarette butt landed at my feet. "Hello, Spike."  
  
He stalked up behind me, the signature trace of a smirk on his face. I turned to look at him and he froze, his eyes searching my face for any clue, any meaning, but he found none and looked away. "Nice night."  
  
"The best," I replied, opening the front door as we both walked inside. "Can't wait till the next one?"  
  
"Itching to get a good kill in?" he asked lightly, leading the way to the kitchen, where he paused before searching the fridge and pulling out a bottle. "Cheers."  
  
I nodded, watching as he drank the beer, not quite wanting to talk to him, yet wanting to know how he felt. It was all terribly confusing. I felt like I should make the first move, but considering nine months had passed since he'd told me how he felt, I waited for him to say something.  
  
He finally noticed me staring at him as he set the empty bottle aside. "Why are you all serious for? All work and no play makes a very dull slayer."  
  
I smirked and tilted my head, judging his reaction. I had read his eyes perfectly. Still stone cold, but the emotion inside had disappeared. As he turned to walk back into the living room, I blurted out, "I don't love you."  
  
He froze. He slowly turned to face me. "What did you say?"  
  
"I don't love you," I said, walking up to face him. "I never loved you. All I can ask is that you try and stop loving me, because I-"  
  
Spike put his hand on my face, cooling my thoughts. I pulled away from him, trying not to flush, but my breathing had gone shallow. "Spike."  
  
"I don't love you, not like I used to anyway," he replied softly. "All I ask to keep is your respect as a fighter. I need it for redemption, you know?"  
  
I finally forced myself to nod, even though I felt like my stomach was churning over and over. "I don't want to talk to you like we had a past," I said at last. He narrowed his eyes in consideration. "I just assume you wouldn't talk to me at all."  
  
"If you want me to stay cool with you, that's fine with me, Slayer," he continued, his voice edgy, "but you've been out of the loop for the past few months. You don't know what we've been through together."  
  
"I'll get the story someplace else," I replied. "Don't treat me like we're friends."  
  
"I don't want to be your friend," he growled as we went into the living room. "I want to work with you, be one of the group."  
  
"These are my friends," I snapped, gesturing to them. "I'm the leader here. I do what I know is best for the group and if you want to be part of the group, you'll have to learn how to follow."  
  
"Oh, I know I can follow," he said with a chuckle, hovering over the vegetable platter on the giant flamingo serving dish, "but the question is, can you lead again?"  
  
"I'm most certain she can," a different voice piped in. Giles walked into the living room, wearing a sweater and slacks, looking years off his real date. "You weren't here the first time she died."  
  
"No," Spike replied, "but I felt it. No, I'll stay out of your way, Slayer. I'll be out of your life. But your work is my work now, so either you accept it, or else you'll pay for me to get this chip out of my head, and then we'll dance. What's it going to be?"  
  
I stood there, fuming. Dawn and her friends had just come downstairs. The music ended abruptly. Finally, I glanced into his eyes, into his body, with the soul he didn't have. "Stay," I whispered. "I dare you to stay."  
  
His eyes widened, completely unexpecting my harsh words. He shrugged and swallowed his slice of green pepper and finally turned and stalked out, not even saying a word to anyone else, except to pause by Giles, wish him a happy birthday, and then disappeared into the night.  
  
I let out a long breath. The music kicked back in. As I reached for the chip bowl, I felt a cold hand take my elbow. It was Giles, and he looked like he had plenty to say.  
  
I followed him into the kitchen and sighed, sitting down when he gestured for me to take a stool. "This wasn't your choice, Buffy," he said, his voice slightly cool. "Spike has been our leader for the past few months when you've been sleeping. Sure, Willow and Tara know the magicks. They know how to make the monsters dance, or sing, or turn into purple bubbles, the point is, we need another fighter for our side."  
  
"Who are you to tell me what I need?" I asked in a low voice. "Why are you telling me this? You want me to a love a demon?"  
  
"He isn't a demon, not anymore," Giles snapped. "All he asks is that you accept him as a fighter."  
  
"I've accepted him as a fighter," I repeated, trying to add a bored note to my voice. "He can fight beside me."  
  
"Damnit, Buffy," he cried, slapping his hand on the counter, making me jump. "You don't understand it, do you?"  
  
"Understand what?" I asked, finding myself getting more and more impatient. "Understand that Spikey's become this good guy? You're right, I don't understand. The only thing he's ever wanted, the only thing he's ever thought worth fighting for has been me."  
  
Giles looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. "No!" he yelled out. "The only thing he's been fighting for is to free himself from that demon!"  
  
"Don't you think you're playing the Prophet hard?" I asked, deliberately keeping my voice light.  
  
He glared up at me. "What do you mean?"  
  
"What I mean is," I cried out, jumping down from the stool and crossing my arms, "you're saying that you wish Spike was in charge, even though I'm technically your slayer and I almost died to save the world. You trust him more than you trust me?"  
  
"Never!" he cried out. "Buffy, I could never trust Spike. Ever. All I know is that he made a promise to you he'd look after Dawn, that he'd never hurt her. But I'm more concerned about you."  
  
"You think I'm just going to hop into his crypt for a quickie every time I get an itch?" I glammered back. I could feel the heat in his gaze intensify.  
  
"I'm just saying," he said, his voice very quiet, "that _you_ should try and reserve your judgment. Let Spike do the fighting. You have enough to be taking care of."  
  
"I'm the fighter here, no matter how well they did," I retorted hotly.  
  
"They were doing the best they could," he replied in that same calm voice. "They needed you. They still do. They need a leader who is strong, able, and isn't against vampires on her side."  
  
"Like Angel?" I asked, enunciating each syllable carefully. "You're saying I should trust Spike just because he didn't torture and mutilate _you_? And because he hasn't returned from hell yet?"  
  
He closed his eyes. "Buffy, I-"  
  
"No, you listen to me," I fumed. "Spike is working for me now. He's not my lover, he's not even my love interest, he's just a fighter, going for redemption. I need you to trust me and my judgment now, because I'm back. I'm awake. And I'm home."  
  
"Are you?" he asked carefully.   
  
I glared at him for another moment before I ran past him, thundered up my steps to my bedroom and closed the door quietly. I turned to glance at my bedroom.   
  
I'd been up here only once since I'd gotten home. Just a few hours ago, I'd changed clothes after taking a shower. Taking a deep breath to calm my sputtering heart, I sat on the end of the bed, trying not to cry. The faint smell of cigarette smoke distracted me and I rose.  
  
"Need some consolation?"  
  
"Get out."  
  
"Why, pet? You look upset. Let me help you."  
  
"How?" I asked, a silly laugh emanating from my chest. I turned to face him, my chest heaving and face a stunning shade of scarlett. He stared at me a moment and then took another draw on his fag.  
  
"Invite me in."  
  
"Invite you into my bedroom?" I gasped, moving toward the window. "Are you insane?"  
  
"Oh, that's right, I'm already invited in," he said, easily sliding one leg over the windowsill.  
  
"Oh, no, you are not coming in here," I moaned, moving closer to him.  
  
"Why not? I thought I'd bring you some good comfort," he replied, removing a large bottle of tequila from under his duster.  
  
I took the bottle and threw it back onto my bed and then placed my hands on his chest. With a small cry, I managed to push him backwards out my window.  
  
At that exact moment, Dawn was going to walk Janice home across the street and then say goodnight to her boyfriend. As they kissed under the stars, Spike fell from my window with a loud thud, followed by mumbled curses. Dawn gasped as he leapt from the bushes, and ran into the night.  
  
Satisfied about my good deed, I closed my window and lowered the blinds, before sitting back on my bed, and reaching for the bottle.  
  
"Welcome home, me," I said softly as I unscrewed the cap and began to drink.  
  


* * * * *  
  


I had just closed the door behind Dawn when a loud noise made me gasp and look up. I opened the front door to see Spike running down the driveway like a bat out of hell. Above me, I could hear Buffy screaming after him.  
  
I rolled my eyes as I came back inside, Tara right beside me. Giles was walking into the living room, pulling on his coat, looking sour. "Leaving already?" I asked him, trying to push him back into the living room.  
  
"I feel it best I not be here at this time," he said, pushing past me and leaving, only to stop where Dawn was standing, staring dreamy eyed at a sports car now screeching away from the house. He said something quietly to her and then left, his shiny convertible speeding quickly away.  
  
"What did she say to him?" Tara asked me as we let Dawn back inside. She quickly climbed the stairs to her room to get her stuff to go to Janice's. I shrugged and walked back into the living room. Anya and Xander were still dancing wildly to music they could only hear in their heads. I took an empty bowl and the cheese tray and carried them back into the kitchen. Then, glancing around to make sure I would be unheard, I leaned over to Tara. "I think they were fighting about Spike."  
  
"What?" Tara asked in surprise as she helped me put the cheese away. "Why?"  
  
"Giles thinks that Buffy isn't ready to head back out into the open yet," I said in a soft voice, screwing the cap back on to the salsa. "He thinks that Spike should stay leader."  
  
"That doesn't sound like Giles," Tara replied, pouring the corn chips back into their bag. "That sounds more like a possessed form of Giles."  
  
"I don't know what to think," I said softly. "They've never fought like this before, ever. I think it goes deeper than that."  
  
Tara was curious now as we made another trip to the living room to bring back more food. "You think he wants her to love Spike?"  
  
"It would take the pressure off of himself," I said in a low voice as we returned to the kitchen. "If you had seen the look on his face when she woke up... he loves her."  
  
"Yeah," Tara replied, sticking the vegetables into small, plastic bags. "Of course he loves her. He always has."  
  
"Not like this," I said slowly. "It's more than a father's love or a watcher's love... it's deeper now. It became deeper when she fell from the tower, when he began to understand what she did and why she did it. She wore her heart. And now he's wearing his."  
  
Tara turned to me in confusion, about to say something when Dawn breezed through the kitchen. "I'll be back in time for dinner tomorrow, we have a lot of studying to do. I'll call you before I go to work," she said, stopping by to hug me, and grab the bag of carrot sticks before she left to head across the street.  
  
"Do you think she'll ever know what Buffy did for her?" Tara asked in a quiet voice.  
  
"I think she's beginning to understand," I sighed, wiping off the counter. "Why don't you call Giles and see how he's holding up? He should be home by now, at the speeds he was driving. I'm going to go upstairs and check on Buffy."  
  
Tara nodded and we went our separate ways. I could hear the sounds of the buttons on the telephone as Tara rang Giles up, and then could hear her voice talking in soft, polite tones. I finished ascending the steps and paused right outside of Buffy's room.   
  
I knocked. I didn't hear anything, so I pushed the door open to peek my head inside. "Buffy?"  
  
She was laying on her bed, her back towards me, curled into the fetal position. I moved closer and saw her eyes were still open, and silent laughter had died on her lips. Clutched in her hands was a half bottle of liquor, some of it spilled on the front of her clothes and bedspread, and even more on the floor. "Buffy?"  
  
"Will?" she asked, her voice blank. "What have I done?"  
  
"You didn't do anything, sweetie," I said consolingly, sitting down next to her and prying the bottle from her hands. "You haven't done anything wrong."  
  
"I told him to go away," she replied, her voice small, muffled.   
  
"Spike was being a jerk," I said, with a nod, "it's no wonder you threw him out of your room."  
  
"No," she said, rolling onto her back to face me. I could see her eyes were red-rimmed, but dry. She'd been drinking this liquor? "Not Spike. It was never about Spike."  
  
Tara's footsteps echoed through the house and I knew she was getting closer. Buffy turned half-heartedly toward the door. "It's about Giles."  
  
"You can go to him tomorrow and apologize, Buffy," I said, smiling. She stared at my face a moment and then turned her head away.   
  
"Why do I always mess these things up?"  
  
"You've been awake three days," I replied, gently rubbing her back. "Why don't you come downstairs so we can get your room cleaned up?"  
  
Tara stopped at the doorway, looking out of breath. Her eyes widened when she saw the bottle in my hands. I handed it over to her. "Come on now," I said, helping her up. "Easy, now. Easy."  
  
"Will?" she asked, bringing a hand to her face to cover her eyes. "Never let me drink that stuff again."  
  
"I promise," I said as Tara and I both helped her stand up. She really reeked of tequila.  
  
She wavered a bit and giggled, and then glanced down. "Will?" she asked in a hesitant voice.  
  
"Yeah?" I asked, turning my attention back to her.  
  
"I have to throw up now," she said, her voice almost sad.   
  
"Oh, Buffy..."


	7. Some Reality Acquired

Chapter 7 is up for you to enjoy! Chapter 8 will follow soon. The next two will be posted by tomorrow night.  
  
Things are starting to get a bit better, but the tension is still rising...  
  
Reviews are most welcome!  
  
POV's in this chapter: Anya, Tara and the end bit of Giles.  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 7  
Some Reality Acquired  
  
** * * * * *  
  


It was early the next morning as Giles drove me to the mall to begin his shopping trip. Our shopping trip, really. He had agreed to go to an office store so we could pick up more supplies. Like duct tape. And invoice pads. And pens. I kept chewing the caps on the pens we did have in the store, and the customers refused to take an official Magic Box pen with a chewed up cap, as Giles reminded me time and time again.  
  
Well, folly on him.  
  
He seemed uncharacteristically quiet this morning. He kept staring straight ahead, the muscles around his eyes jumping every time he blinked.  
  
If I didn't know any better, I'd say Giles was in a foul mood.  
  
"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light.  
  
He nodded, but didn't say anything. Which was a start, right? I knew he would break out of his funk sooner or later. He just had to. It was my job as his assistant sales manager to try, right?   
  
"Where do we go first?" I asked as he parked the car close to the office supplies store. He didn't say anything for a moment as he pressed a button and the top to his car went up. After he snapped it into position, he silently got out of the car. I followed him, curiously. "Giles?"  
  
"What's on the list?" His voice was so quiet I wasn't sure I'd heard him. But since I clutched the list in my small clasp bag, I pulled it out and read off the first store listed; the office supplies store in front of us.  
  
We went inside through the automatic doors and went toward the carts. As much as I found automatic doors fascinating and wanted to spend the next few moments going inside and outside and back inside again, I knew Giles' patience was on a short leash today, and he never had that much patience for me to begin with.  
  
We walked quietly through the narrow aisles, only stopping to pick up what was on the list I held in my hand. Finally, at the checkout, he handed me his small leather case while he dug out his credit card to pay for the lot. I couldn't help peering inside of it, and found a small slip of paper addressed to the local leather store. "What's this?"  
  
He turned to me as he swiped his card, his eyes flickering with interest. "A gift certificate. I'm sure you know what those are."  
  
I nodded. "Are we going there?"  
  
He shrugged and turned to me. I sighed and picked up the two large bags and dragged them out into the mall as Giles signed for the receipt and followed me. "Let's try it out, shall we?" he asked, in the same calm voice he'd use on a five-year-old.  
  
But this was so much more exciting. When the leather store came into view, he paled slightly and looked at his feet. "Maybe some shoes?" he asked.  
  
I shrugged and cheerfully walked inside. Grumbling, he followed me at the slowest pace. And we glanced around.  
  
"Giles, look at these pants," I yelled, running over to a gorgeous pair of studded pants sitting on the male mannequin. "Have you seen such lovely pants?"  
  
He rolled his eyes and picked up the office supplies bags I'd just dumped in my quest. "They do have a touch of something."  
  
I pulled a pair off the table, checked their size and extended them toward him. "Try them on, they're on clearance. Thirty percent off, plus the fifteen percent sale for today. I'll try finding you a jacket."  
  
"I will not wear leather pants," he grunted, but he was smiling, and for once the smile had reached his eyes. He was probably imagining his friends laughing at his leather pants if he wore them. The wuss.  
  
"Take them," I said in a warning voice, and maybe because he didn't want me to rant on for the next hour about why leather pants would look good on him, he threw me a dirty look and proceeded to the nearest dressing room, leaving me standing by the mannequin, satisfied. Then I started through the leather jackets, thinking that if I found one to enhance his figure a bit more, he'd be more popular in the leather than the tweed at the shop.  
  
He returned a moment later, standing with his legs squeezed together, as though he couldn't find any reason to separate them. My gaze traveled from his well-worn shoes to the leather pants to his face. The moment my eyes met his, we both dissolved into giggles.  
  
"I look ridiculous," he finally choked out, wiping his eyes after removing his glasses. "You want to see what a well-known British man looks like in beaten cow hides? This is your vision."  
  
I tried to contain my laughter, but it was hard. Finally, I handed him the jacket I'd found. "Try that on for size," I gasped, wiping my own eyes as he took the jacket, surveying it with a critical eye. With a heavy sigh of annoyance, he disappeared back inside the room.  
  
My eye caught on a display of discounted sleeveless shirts for men. I practically ran into the other shoppers in my mad dash to get to the table, setting down the bags of office supplies. I lifted one up. It was some shiny silver material, like dragons scales, and really tight. With a little sigh, I pulled it to myself, trying to imagine how I'd look in the shirt. Finally, Giles walked out behind me.   
  
I couldn't help it. My jaw dropped. "Whoa," I stammered out.  
  
He was seriously good-looking in the leather pants and jacket. Even with his hair still perfectly combed in place and his glasses sat rigidly on his nose. Apparently, he was still trying to hold onto his crisp British side, while maintaining a look that proved his good looks were something other than hidden behind tweed. He looked fantastic.  
  
I wordlessly held out the shirt for him. He silently took it. There was a silence between us intercepted only by the fact I still couldn't take my eyes off him and I was an engaged woman.   
  
He took the shirt with him back into the dressing room and I wandered around the store, pulling a few accessories, odds and ends into my arms, having given up on toting the large bags of office supplies around. It seemed like yesterday we'd been a sullen pair shopping in a dull store. He had been more lively in the past half hour than he had been in the past week.  
  
I saw Giles' body reflected on the mirror in front of me as I turned around. This time I laughed, as did he. The silver shirt did not look good with the leather. With another burst of giggles, I handed him a leather shirt and he took it, his eyes twinkling. "Now this is what I call stress relief!" he said, his voice slightly giddy.   
  
And, as I watched him return to the dressing room as I dragged our other bags around, I couldn't agree with him more.  
  


* * * * *  
  


It was just after noon when Buffy emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a thick robe tied tightly around her. I was in the kitchen, doing dishes from breakfast when she approached, running a hand through her still-damp hair.  
  
"Good afternoon," I said, trying to keep my voice cheerful. She smiled at me before taking a seat and setting her head carefully in her hands. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like an idiot," she whispered, with a sigh. "I really blew it last night."  
  
"Spike didn't seem to mind," I replied with as much cheer as I could muster. Spike falling from the second-story window had caught me off guard. Hell, even his attempts to 'comfort' Buffy had caught her off guard.   
  
"Not Spike," she said sadly as I handed her two aspirin and a bottle of water. "I mean Giles. Why did I have to lose my temper with him? He was just trying to do what's best for me."  
  
I shrugged as I wiped the island off. "You were awfully hard on him."  
  
"I'll go apologize to him later," she said, sighing again as she glanced outside. Dark clouds had tumbled in, blocking out the bright sunlight that had woken her up earlier. "Hopefully it won't rain."  
  
"You might want to apologize to Spike, too," I added as an afterthought. "He was quite angry you threw him out of your room."  
  
"I just wished he'd hit the top of the picket fence below," she replied sullenly as she drank the water. "I'm not apologizing to him. He should know by now that if he's still alive and not breathing, he's been apologized to."  
  
All I could do was smile, even though I was slightly disturbed.  
  
"Could you do something for me though?" she asked, turning to face me. I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head as she explained what had happened the night before. "I just want to make sure he can never get into my bedroom again."  
  
I nodded, trying to force another smile. "You want me to do a spell?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Could you make it so my room is off-limits to him?"  
  
While we were talking, Willow came into the kitchen, dressed brightly. "What's going on?"  
  
I turned and slipped my arm around her waist, giving her a sideways hug. "Buffy and I were just talking about last night," I said as Willow kissed the top of my head. "She wants to do a vampire rejection spell from her bedroom."  
  
"Seems easy enough," Willow said with a furrowed brow, turning back to Buffy. "Are you absolutely certain?"  
  
"I've never been more certain."  
  
Willow and I exchanged a glance. "Don't you think you're being a little hard on him?" Willow asked gently.  
  
"I'm not," she replied stubbornly, crossing her arms. "I think he deserves what is coming to him. How dare he try to show up for some 'comfort' in my bedroom!"  
  
We exchanged another glance. Buffy caught it. "What?"  
  
"Nothing," I finally said, standing up and reaching behind me to push the stool in. "Willow and I will do your spell."  
  
"Good," Buffy replied, also rising. "I'm going to go get dressed. What time is Dawn due home?"  
  
"She works till six on Sundays," Willow replied softly as Buffy turned to leave the room. "Are you okay?"  
  
She turned back to us, her face slightly strained, yet she smiled bravely. "I will be."  
  
We watched her leave and exchanged another glance and sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.  
  


* * * * *  
  


I had just gotten home, setting my bags down when the phone rang. I picked it up on the fourth ring.  
  
It was Willow.  
  
"Have you seen Buffy?" she asked impatiently. "She disappeared about two hours ago. It's starting to get bad outside."  
  
I nodded, glancing outside to see the heavy rain and lightning cascading across the sky. "I haven't heard a word from her," I said, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "I'm not exactly on her list of to-speak-to."  
  
"Oh, no," Willow moaned. "I've called everyone I could think of. She hasn't shown up anywhere! I even tried Anya's apartment. She said you'd been shopping all day."  
  
I glanced at myself. I was still wearing the leather Anya had talked me into buying. I was wet from head to toe from having to drag two loads of shopping bags from my car to the apartment I lived in. "I was gone a good majority of it, yes," I replied, cleaning the water from my glasses. As I placed them back on, I heard a gentle tap against my door. I could have sworn it was the wind, but it warranted a second look. I brought the phone with me, trying to console Willow in her panic.  
  
I opened the door.  
  
She didn't need to panic anymore.  
  
Buffy stood there, drenched from head to toe. Her hair had curled in the rain, and her face was splotchy, as though she was crying, her tears mingling with the rainwater.  
  
"I'll call you back," I said, touching the off button and throwing the phone aside.  
  
And I just stared at her. She blinked up at me.   
  
"Giles," she whispered.  
  
"Buffy." The word was full of tentative emotion as I glanced at her. She didn't look angry or bitter or murderous. She looked miserable. Just like I'd felt before my shopping spree with Anya.   
  
"Giles, I need to talk to you." Her voice was so sad, almost as though she'd been memorizing the words. I could see her avert her eyes from mine and glanced down at the rain puddling near her shoes. "Please?"  
  
I pushed the door open further to let her in.  
  
She stepped inside. And I closed the door behind us.


	8. Apologize

POV's for Chapter 8... Giles/Buffy. Chapter 9 will have alternative ones, but this seemed like a good critical chapter. :)  
  
Lyrics are from the Who, the song is "See My Way".  
  
Hope you enjoy! Hope you review!  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 8  
Apologize  
  
** * * * * *  
  


She stepped inside, shivering slightly from the rain. She stepped carefully over the bags on the floor and sat down on the couch, her eyes still staring straight ahead. I could see her shoulders tremble.   
  
"I'll make some tea," I said quickly, walking into the kitchen and setting the kettle on the stove. As I stood there, a mellowing thought passed through my mind and I rested my head against my arm a silent moment before I pulled back. "It'll be ready in a moment."  
  
She glanced up at me, her eyes widening in shock. "Giles," she breathed, "are you wearing leather?"  
  
I glanced down at myself. Sure enough, the shiny black leather that seemed so entertaining a mere few hours ago felt constricting. "I guess I am," I said, forcing a brief smile. I quickly shrugged off the coat and set it down, leaving my button-down shirt and denim pants on. "What did you want to talk to me about?"  
  
She flinched at the harshness of my words, but part of me couldn't help it. Just the night before she had been biting my head off, literally, about Spike, Angel and a variety of other things. She finally looked up and met my eyes. I could see her lips tremble. I quickly sat down next to her, but she moved slightly away. "I guess I'm here to apologize," she said, boldly meeting my eyes again. "I'm such a terrible person. You've been nothing but fantastic and here I come along and do something so stupid..."  
  
"I was wrong about Spike," I said, trying to keep my voice controlled. "He was still trying to get in with you, from what I have been able to gather from Anya. He still loves you, but not like he used to."  
  
"I wish so badly he didn't," she said, which brought large, oily tears to her eyes. She had to blink them away, but her voice was still thick with them. "I wish I could just kill him sometimes, the ways he's hurt me..."  
  
"I would never let him hurt you," I said gently, touching her shoulder. She glanced up at me, her gaze sad, yet curious. The moment was broken by the whistle of a teapot. "How long have you been wandering around?"  
  
"I went by the park, the bronze, everything... just to make sure it was still there, you know?" she said, hugging herself to keep herself warm. I nodded as I returned to the kitchen, taking the kettle off the stove. I had to pause again and collect my thoughts. She had come to me to apologize. She had done it walking in the rain.  
  
I guess I was still important to her. I guess I still had her respect. I shrugged off the feelings of warmth as I poured two steaming mugs of tea and added a plate of kippers. She looked at me as I brought the tea in on a tray and sat back down. She took the mug in trembling hands and mumbled a thanks as she drank the piping hot liquid.  
  
"How are you feeling?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light.  
  
"I was terrible," she finally admitted, snitching a kipper from the plate. "I felt terrible about last night, being your birthday and everything. I should never have yelled at you like that. It's not your fault Spike is a jerk, will always be a jerk. You were just trying to help me see things, and I should have known. You've already done so much for me..." She glanced up and saw my eyes. Her own eyes widened, then she quickly glanced back down to her tea and sipped more at it.  
  
"I was afraid I would have lost your respect," I said in a low voice. I leaned forward and picked up my own cup. "I was afraid that you would go and get yourself killed again."  
  
She shook her head slowly as she continued drinking her tea. "And I was afraid I'd lost your trust..." her voice trailed off as more tears followed. She brushed them away harshly before taking a second kipper.   
  
"You'll never lose that," I replied quietly, watching her eat the snack. "Just as you'll never lose my respect. You've been through more than most people twice your age. I just felt like if you were reckless and I wasn't able to protect you, I'd lose you again."  
  
"How did you feel," she began slowly, "when I fell from the tower?"  
  
"I felt like I wanted to die," I replied in a low voice, setting my tea aside. Her eyes widened again as she glanced away, trying to collect her own thoughts, I assumed.   
  
"I never knew you would feel like that," Buffy admitted in a voice as low as my own. "I promise I won't be reckless anymore. I just want to do what I was chosen to do."  
  
"You will," I said with a smile. "I have no doubt you won't."  
  
She beamed then, her first smile since she'd walked in my door. She finished the tea and set it aside. As she leaned over, I saw how wet she really was, leaving large watermarks on my couch. "Would you like a shower?" I asked her softly.  
  
She glanced at me, then toward the hallway, a tempting gleam in her eye. "Would you mind?" she asked. "I'm a little cold."  
  
I nodded and gestured toward the bathroom. "It's all yours." I stood up and fished in my bags for a moment before pulling out the shiny, silver shirt and handing it to her. "Wear this."  
  
She took it and glanced down at my bags, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Giles? Where did you get all of this?"  
  
"The gift certificate," I replied. "The gift from Willow and Tara for my birthday."  
  
Her mouth formed the shape of an 'O' before she turned away. "Giles?"  
  
"Yes?" I asked, turning around, the rest of my parcels falling from my hands. She was staring at the silver material in her hands, shaking her head, her shoulders trembling with sputtered laughter.  
  
"What is this?"  
  
"A shirt," I replied indignantly. "Anya said it made me 'the bomb', whatever that means."  
  
Buffy struggled to control her giggles. "Could you have a cup of tea waiting for me when I get out?"  
  
I nodded, giving her another reassuring smile.   
  
She smiled back, and this time the warmth reached her eyes, making me feel more relieved than anxious as she turned to head down the hall and disappeared from view. I waited until the door had closed and I heard water running before I started going through the bags. The clothes I put in the basket on the foot of the stairs. I replaced the kettle on the stove so her tea would be hot once she finished with the shower. The groceries I put away quickly, since the ice cream was melting. The books I got from the bookstore I stacked onto the coffee table. Finally satisfied I had put everything away, I sat down.  
  
I was getting warm, I thought to myself, setting her mug next to the last remaining kippers. I unbuttoned the top two buttons and finally decided to remove my shirt. Spotting my guitar in the corner, I stood up to take it back upstairs and paused on the bottom steps, hearing the water in the shower turn off. I glanced down at my guitar and sat on the bottom steps, my fingers gently strumming soft, minor chords.   
  
_ "Some way, some day, I'll find a way  
To make you see my way  
Even if you don't think like I do  
You know that it's true  
It's your mind that I seek  
Tried so hard to make me think my point of view was bad  
Although at times when you kept on I thought that I was mad...  
Tried so hard to make me think my point of view was bad  
Although at times when you kept on I thought that I was mad..."  
  
_ I kept singing, singing the words that flowed from my fingers, trying to make them say all the words I couldn't, the words I couldn't bear to say.   
  
I glanced up suddenly upon hearing footsteps. Buffy stood right in front of me, the mug cradled in her hands, tears in her eyes.  
  


* * * * *  
  


It was awesome, really. At first I thought Giles would kick me out of his house, but I had managed enough courage to muster an apology. He had been kind, very endearing in fact. I thought for sure I was in trouble, yet all he had to do was look into my eyes to see how sorry I was.  
  
Then he had offered me his shower. After walking for twenty minutes in the pouring rain, it had felt wonderful. Hot, steaming water had fallen, loosening my cramped muscles. I had smiled serenely to the ceiling, wondering if I was perhaps in wonderland.   
  
After I stepped out and began to dry off, I heard the strangest thing from the living room. Music. I had tiptoed out and saw Giles, topless, his eyes closed, his fingers gently brushing the strings, his voice wrought with emotion. It was touching, the way he put passion into his music. Just like he put passion into watching my back, as he had for so many years before.  
  
Which was why he was staring at me, as I struggled to regain my emotions. "That was beautiful," I choked out.  
  
"Just an old song," he replied, clearly uncomfortable to be caught in that position. He stood up, using the guitar to shield himself, trying to avert his gaze from the awe still dangling in mine. I turned away and he quickly went up the steps. "I'm going to ring Willow and tell her you made it safely over here!" he called down. "She almost had a heart attack before."  
  
I smiled and sat down, waiting for him to come back once he had realized I wasn't going to bite him or anything. Making myself comfortable, I began searching through the four or five new volumes he had stacked on top of the table next to the kippers. Sneaking one and sipping my tea, I found one book of interest. It had a very colorful cover and with large black block letters, the title screamed "100 Reasons Why..." and below, a list of what you might need a hundred reasons for. I found the one hundred reasons why I was still single quite interesting.  
  
I opened the book and scanned the table of contents, then flipped to the middle of the book, laid down, and started reading. It was all fascinating stuff, really. The top reason was that my interest in men was completely lame and perhaps I should try the opposite sex. The second reason was for lack of interest. The third said something about sex... on and on...  
  
I didn't realize I was falling asleep until the book fell down to the floor and my head dropped onto the pillow.  
  


* * * * *  
  


I dialed the numbers carefully. Willow picked up on the first ring.  
  
"Oh, thank goodness," she cried out when I told her that Buffy had been here. "I was _so_ worried. We all were! What is she doing? Where is she now?"  
  
"Downstairs," I replied, a hint of annoyance in my voice. "She came over here to apologize, and she did. I let her take a shower because she was soaking wet and cold to the bone, and now she's downstairs drinking tea."  
  
"You're upstairs?" Willow's confused voice broke in. "Why?"  
  
I glanced down at myself. I had put the blue shirt back on, but it was still unbuttoned. "She caught me off guard. I was... singing."  
  
The surprise in her voice was evident. "Something I'm sure she didn't know about."  
  
I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. "She bloody well looked like she was about to swoon."  
  
"Swoon?" Willow choked out, trying desperately to cover her laughter. "Oh, Giles."  
  
"I'm quite serious," I sputtered, haphazardly buttoning the buttons on my shirt before I could go downstairs. "It's almost seven now. I'll feed her and drive her home later. I want to have a few moments with her first."  
  
"Whatever," Willow said softly. "I'm just glad you two made up. I never heard you fight that bad before."  
  
"You heard it too, hmm," I sighed, switching the phone to the other shoulder so I could button the set near my collarbone. "Well, I'll talk to you later then. Goodbye now." I tapped the off button and turned to the guitar, now sitting in its case, locked. I pushed it back into my closet, hoping I could bury it.  
  
I walked down the stairs slowly, trying to figure out what I could say. I finally decided to tell her about my phone conversation. "I called and talked to Willow. She was dying to know where you were. I said you were safe and-"   
  
The words died on my lips as I saw her sound asleep on my sofa. She looked like an angel, laying there, her head on the pillow, curled up like a child. I smiled and took the afghan from the back and gently draped it across her. She was probably exhausted from the night before. Not to mention the long walk.  
  
I walked back into the kitchen, turning on the radio. Soft, mellow jazz played out. I opened my cabinet and put away the teabags I'd used earlier. I stepped back to the living room and lifted the book she'd knocked over and sat in my armchair and began to read.  
  
It wasn't two hours later when I heard a loud rumble outside my door. I glanced up as something pounded on my door. I stood up and walked quickly over to it, pulling the door open.  
  
To see the bleached blonde on the other side, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. "Spike, what are you doing here?" I asked.  
  
"You told me to come by tonight," he said in a bored tone, shoving the helmet at me. He took in my rumpled clothing and anxious expression and glanced past me. Then his eyes widened as he caught sight of what I knew had to be Buffy, sitting up on the sofa and stretching. "I guess I must have misunderstood," he continued, his voice almost singsong as Buffy made her way to the door, dressed in my shiny silver shirt. "Hello, Buffy."  
  
She didn't say anything, just stared at him with a critical eye. Except for a white bandage covering his left hand, he appeared to be in one piece. She turned to me almost impatiently. "I should be getting back home soon."  
  
"Well, then the Watcher can show you his new riding skills," Spike countered. "I've been giving him motorcycle lessons since I acquired a few from the one-horned demon attacks."  
  
I arched my eyebrows and turned to see how Buffy would take the news. She remained silent, a soft smile spreading across her face. She turned to me, a hint of laughter in her voice. "You ride?"  
  
"We all do," I replied. "Except for Willow and Tara. They provide the real wheels. We use the bikes."  
  
She seemed really surprised, until she turned back to Spike. He was leering at us. "Well, if you're busy, I can come back at a later time." He placed such an emphasis on the word 'busy' I felt offended. I was nonetheless surprised when Buffy reached across and took my arm and tucked hers inside.  
  
"We are quite busy, Spike," she replied in a breathy, loving tone, glancing down provocatively.  
  
His eyes widened, as did mine as I tried to look endearingly at her, but it was difficult. He just stood there, his jaw around his hips, shaking his head. "I don't believe it."  
  
"Believe it," I finally managed to gasp out, reaching for her hand.   
  
He kept shaking his head, finally handing me the helmut and walking away, talking about the most disturbing things. I turned to Buffy in surprise. She was staring after Spike, a supercilious expression of glee on her face. "Did you see that?"  
  
"I did," I replied in a mellow voice. She turned to me, a question in her eyes I didn't quite follow. Instead of trying to pursue it further, I took her arm again. "Let's get you home. We'll take the car tonight."  
  
She nodded silently and followed me out.


	9. Whispers Can Be Deadly

Last two chapters I promised before last Friday are here. Site was down but they were perfected on Thursday.  
  
I'll probably slow down a bit now, considering I've written a LOT in the past week and a half. I'll try for two to three chapters a week until the story is done. I still have other outstanding projects.  
  
Chapter 9's POV is solely Willow's. As my second favorite, she gets her own.  
Chapter 10's POV's alternate between Dawn & Buffy. You'll find out why.  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 9  
Whispers Can Be Deadly  
  
** * * * * *  
  


I had just walked downstairs when the front door burst open. Buffy charged in, a huge smile on her face, turning to shout goodbye to Giles, who veered off with a squeal from his newer car. I was shocked to see her looking so happy. She even turned and hugged me. "I just have to hug my Willow!" she said gaily, throwing her arms around me, cutting off all oxygen as she tightened her grip. Finally, she released it and practically danced up the stairs.  
  
"What is it?" Tara asked, coming out of the kitchen, a large bowl of microwave popcorn in her hands.   
  
"My guess is a witch," said Dawn, coming from behind Tara, holding a tray with a pitcher and two large glasses filled with ice. "Are you sure you don't want to ditch patrol and watch a movie with us? We're going to watch Titanic until we both fall asleep."  
  
I rolled my eyes comically. "Sorry. I promised Xander I'd meet him in the graveyard in about ten minutes. You two enjoy the movie... and keep an eye on Buffy. I think she's been drinking again."  
  
Tara and Dawn both followed my gaze upstairs and I saw Dawn flinch slightly. "She still on the outs with Giles?"  
  
"I don't know," I replied honestly as I pulled my coat on and buttoned it up. "Have a good night you two. Dawn, I want you in bed when I get home. Even growing sophomores need their sleep."  
  
"Yes, Mom," Dawn replied as she and Tara disappeared into the living room. With a sigh and a last glance back upstairs, I pulled open the front door and closed it behind me, reaching for my car keys inside. I got in the car, started it, and backed slowly out of the driveway. In the four minute drive to the cemetary, I started thinking. I was sure Buffy hadn't been drinking. She'd been with Giles for pity's sake, and Giles rarely drank around her. Still, she had a glow about her, and when she scampered inside, she was only wearing a tight silvery top and her shoes. That had looked even stranger. Giles must've given her the shower after she'd been walking through the rain. It was the only logical explanation.   
  
I was so in tuned with my thoughts that I nearly hit the motorcycle parked on the edge of the cemetary. Knowing Giles would have driven out here, I was shocked to see Spike standing by the entrance, in conversation with both Anya and Xander.  
  
"... and she acts like it was no big deal," Spike was growling. "Just a little nightshirt and a smug stare. All that Slayer has been about was going at it with the Watcher."  
  
"Who the what with huh?" I asked, walking up behind him. "What about Buffy?"  
  
Xander looked baffled while Anya stood beside him, extremely amused. "Buffy was at Giles' house wearing only the silver shirt we selected today. I swear, that thing is made from dragon scales. Then she told Spike that she and Giles had been all cuddly, because his shirt looked wrinkled, like he'd just pulled it on, and Buffy was on the couch, trying to cover herself up. Very suspicious if you ask me."  
  
"You're concerned about a nasty rumour?" I gasped, turning to Spike. "Buffy would never do anything like that with Giles."  
  
"I wouldn't be too sure," Anya replied. "Today he was practically hating her guts, the insides and the outside part too. Maybe even the intestinal area-"  
  
"An, honey, do you have a point?" Xander asked, sounding disgusted.  
  
"Of course I do," she snapped, turning back to Spike and I. "All I'm saying is that something must have been going through his mind if at one point today he hated her and now he's welcoming her into his house and his shower. She must have apologized to him."  
  
"Is that what you people call apologizing?" Spike asked, lighting a cigarette in the dim twilight glow. "Because I frankly found it sick."  
  
I shook my head in disbelief. "Enough! It's bad enough you're accusing Buffy of doing something that ridiculous, but now you're implying that Giles saw it as that?"  
  
"He was standing right there, and he took her hand, and they looked very cuddly," Spike replied, flicking his cigarette with disinterest. "I'm almost certain they're 'together'."  
  
I tried not to look at Xander for fear we would both start laughing. "What is it to you anyway? You don't love her. Not anymore."  
  
"But Giles?" he asked, his voice taking on a slight whining note. "Surely she could choose someone better."  
  
"What's wrong with Giles?" Xander finally asked, trying to force himself to remain with a serious face and tone of voice. "He's a very well distinguished man..."  
  
"He wears tighty white-y's," Anya spoke out, with a crisp nod.  
  
Spike choked out the smoke as he turned to glance at Anya through slitted lids. "And how, by chance, would you know what he bloody wears?"  
  
"We bought them today," Anya replied in a subdued voice. Her averted gaze through told us she was lying though. I figured she saw them when he bent over or something.  
  
"I wonder if she's seen what's inside those tighty-"  
  
"Spike!"   
  
He glanced at Xander, then at me, his eyes narrowing. "Bloody gits, the both of you. Don't you ever wonder what's been going on between those two?"  
  
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous," I retorted.  
  
His eyebrows rose as he threw the cigarette butt aside. "You think I'm jealous of him? I could win her over in a second. The bad boy darkside ritualistic animal slaughter, that's the fantasy her dreams are made of."  
  
"What if she's beyond all the vampires and demons?" Xander asked. "She might really be into him."  
  
"Please," Spike scoffed. "He's old."  
  
"And you're just cannon fodder?" Anya asked, finally defending Xander and me. "Please. You have two hundred years on Giles."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. At least I'm not shagging the Slayer."  
  
I nearly burst it there. The only thing that stopped me was Xander's quiet look of pain. It was as though he were fighting with himself about whether to defend Buffy's honor or question it. "Buffy would never do that," he finally said quietly.  
  
"She really wouldn't. You don't know her like we do."  
  
"But when the Slayer really wants something, she won't stop until she's had it. Look at the last two of her conquests," Spike admonished us. "Vampire with a soul and a military geek with as much credibility as broccoli. If she wants someone safe, it's best with Watcher man."  
  
"Giles wouldn't do anything with her," Anya said. "He's much too young for her type."  
  
Spike cast his eyes at her again and shook his head in ridicule. "I'm just saying that the Slayer doesn't play the innocent game anymore. Her time for sleeping is over."  
  
"I wouldn't say that," I said, my voice slightly shaky.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because our time may be up," I said, pushing Anya out of the way. Just beyond her, three vampires and another one of those annoying one-horned demons had gathered, drawing closer.  
  
Spike sprang out first, quickly take the first of the three vampires. Xander and Anya went for a second, leaving me to defend myself against a vampire and the stupid demon.  
  
"I shall look upon my enemy," I began, lifting my hand. I could feel the power inside me welling. "I shall look upon them, and-"  
  
My voice was cut off as the third vampire attacked, pushing me to the side. I screamed, a scream of surprise. As I fell, my ankle twisted as I landed. I cried out as the vampire stood and kicked me viciously. I gasped as I reached for something, anything, to hold onto as the cold-blooded demon lifted me up by my neck, throttling me. I scratched at his hands, trying to free myself. My brain was becoming fuzzy as I kept losing the oxygen. I could almost welcome the darkness.  
  
Suddenly, something hit the vampire and I crumpled to the ground, clutching my throat, gasping for breath. From my position on the ground, I saw a flash of blonde and an explosion of ash, then the sound of swords clanking, followed by loud grunts, groans and another body falling near me.  
  
I crawled over to see Anya slowly getting up, rubbing her temple. She glanced up and her gaze froze. I followed her gaze and glanced up. From the leather pants. To the leather coat. To the long blonde hair. "Buffy?"  
  
She reached down and took my hand, helping me up first. Then she helped Anya up, although with less enthusiasm. Spike and Xander, both covered in grass and ash, came from behind. "Slayer," Spike said with a curt nod.  
  
She didn't look at him. I could tell by the anger in her eyes that she had heard something. "Spike."  
  
Ouch. Her words held a bite. His eyes widened and Anya moved instinctively closer to Xander.   
  
As we walked away from the cemetary, I saw that she had walked out here, probably following me. "What are you doing out here?" I asked.  
  
"Patrolling." Again, with a bite.  
  
"Um, Buffy?" Xander asked gently. "Exactly how much of our conversation did you hear?"  
  
She turned to us. By the fury in her hazel eyes, I could tell she'd heard enough. "Every. Damned. Word."  
  
Uh oh.


	10. Bonds

Note: Because ffnet was down when I finished this part, well... I've had a few days to catch up on sleep. Chapter 11 should be ready by tomorrow.   
  
the tension riseth... we also get the reasoning behind the PG-13...  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 10  
Bonds  
  
** * * * * *  
  


I glanced from one face to the next. Did they really think I was that gullible? I had followed Willow all the way from the house to the cemetary. I had fought off two vampires while Xander had been trapped in a tree and Anya had been thrown aside like a bloody goat. Willow had even been powerless. And the only thing Spike could do was rip the horn off the one-horned demon and stab him with it.  
  
Now they stood there, easily caught. I could see that Willow had nothing to hide. She was always straightforward and always defending me, as a true friend would. Xander stood near her, his head cocked, his eyes wide with loathing. He would have been on my side too, I decided. Spike, of course, wasn't. I had heard every filthy, disgusting word. My eyes narrowed as I looked at him. I had the overwhelming desire to stake him, but forced my feet to remain grounded. Anya stood next to Xander, cradling her bleeding arm, her eyes wide. She would have remained neutral. Rumors were like the breath of life for her, yet she knew me well enough to know I wouldn't sleep with my Watcher.  
  
Hell, I even knew I wouldn't sleep with him. Didn't I?  
  
They were still standing there, staring at me. I finally let out a long, pent up breath and glanced at them. "I'm not angry at you," I said in a quiet, calm voice. I saw three of them visibly relax. Spike knew he was in trouble. I turned my infuriated eyes to him. "Ask me again why I could never love you."   
  
It was my quietest tone of voice, and he flinched, his eyes looking down. "You had me under the impression that you and Giles were, well, shacked together..."  
  
"Do you honestly think that me and Giles would do anything like that?" I asked, the hurt obvious in my voice. "Me and Giles?"  
  
"Not at all," Willow insisted, throwing Spike her patented look. "We were just worried about you, Buffy."  
  
"I'm fine," I insisted. "I went to see Giles tonight to apologize to him for being such a jerk. I was angry because he thought that Spike should run the show for a few nights while I got my bearings about me. It rained while I walked to his house. He offered me his shower and some shirt that felt like I was wearing dragon scales. Nothing happened between us." I turned to Spike and forced myself to look contrite. "I'm sorry Spike for leading you to think that we were together or doing anything inappropriate."  
  
His eyes widened and his hand, cradling a cigarette, trembled slightly. "What?"  
  
"I'm sorry," I said, glancing down again. "I really am. Giles and I are nothing more than really good friends. He's more like a... godfather to me."  
  
"We should go home soon," Willow said softly. "It's after midnight. We have to work tomorrow."  
  
Xander and Anya exchanged a glance. "I'll take her home on my bike."  
  
"I'll ride with Willow," I said quickly, before Spike could even think to offer me a drive home. As I walked away, he took my arm.   
  
"I'm sorry I said those things about you. In all my life, I haven't met a fighter like you."  
  
Anya began choking out something that sounded suspiciously like "Jealous git." I didn't quite hear it. I didn't want to hear it.  
  
"I haven't met such an arrogant demon either," I said stiffly as he flinched and hardened next to me. "You're an equal to me. You're a partner. Don't expect anything more."  
  
He stared at me as I opened the passenger door to Willow's car. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
"You do just that," I snapped, sliding in beside Willow and closing the door. She started the car and drove around both motorcycles, her face reflected in the light of the headlights.   
  
"Buffy?" she asked gently as she turned the corner. "What really is going on between you and Giles?"  
  
"It's something," I finally admitted, crossing my arms. "It's not what Spike thinks or even wants to think, but it's turned into something else since I woke up. Did you know that I've seen him for the first time today, without his shirt on?"  
  
"What was that like?" Willow asked, although she balked at the thought of Giles half-naked.  
  
"He looked... young, wild, free..." I said, finding it slightly hard to explain. "He was singing and playing his guitar. He was singing a song from The Who. And he looked so passionate about it. It was like I'd never seen him before. It was... different. You should see him in leather."  
  
"While I accept the fact that your Watcher does have some qualifying looks, a blow-by-blow account of a half-naked Giles isn't exactly what I had in mind. That and the mention of Giles in leather. He's... he's Giles!"  
  
"I know!" I said. "That's my point! It wasn't bad looking. He looked like something off the cover of one of those fantastic romance novels."  
  
"You fantasized about Giles? You fantasized about Giles?"  
  
I tried to ignore the shock in her voice. "When I was in a coma, I had dreams about different things. My spirit guides were trying to tell me different things that would help me in my Slaying. They told me that you and Tara would help me because of your powers. They told me that Xander perceives danger and darkness differently than we do and that we need him. They even told me that Spike was a key fighter in case I fell again. Lastly... they told me that Giles would be the one that would hold me together."  
  
Willow thought a moment, considering my words. "You fantasized about Giles?"  
  
"Broken record," I mumbled. "I didn't fantasize about him. My spirit guides told me to trust him. Which is why I went back to his apartment and apologized to him. And for some reason, Spike saw me in his shirt, put two and two together in a totally wrong way, and thought we'd... slept together."  
  
We both sat there a moment, our faces full of the visions.  
  
"Have you ever fantasized about that?" Willow asked me, a tentative edge to her voice.  
  
"Sometimes I've wondered..."  
  


* * * * *  
  


I was still sleeping the next morning when I heard voices outside my door. I woke up and ran a hand through my hair. It was just after five in the morning. I groaned and dropped back into my bed, pulling the pillow over my head. But the pillow refused to cut the conversation happening pre-sunrise outside my room. With a groan, I kicked my blankets off me and walked to the door, pulling it open.  
  
Buffy was on one side of my bedroom door. Willow was on the other. The seemed to be discussing something terribly important because the moment my door was opened their mouths snapped shut and they went in the separate directions to their bedrooms, Buffy in hers and Willow in hers and Tara's.  
  
I was confused now. I tried to recollect what they'd been saying. Something about fantasizing. Fantasizing about who? I decided to follow Buffy to her room. She was just washing her face in the bathroom when she saw my reflection on the mirror in front of her. "You're up early."  
  
"Got an early wake-up call," I replied in a soft voice. She turned to me, her eyes blazing with concern. I didn't want any of her concern or worries. All I wanted was the truth. "Who are you fantasizing about?"  
  
She looked like she was going to ignore it but after a moment she turned to me, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "What have you heard?"  
  
"Me?" I asked. Me, hear anything? What a joke! Even if the apocalypse was coming, Buffy would pull me aside so I wouldn't find out until after the world was sucked into hell. "You and Spike..."  
  
"Why does it always have to be between me and Spike?" she asked in a wounded voice, brushing her hair, her eyes reproachfully meeting mine in the mirror. "Why can't it happen between me and anyone else?" I noticed she was glancing down and picking the hairs from her brush now. "It could be between me and Angel."  
  
"Puh-lease," I grunted, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "You two are so over."  
  
She nodded and that flicker of a smile met her lips graciously. "I thought so myself."  
  
"Who is it?" I asked, suddenly very curious. "You know everything about my love life, yet I never get to find out anything of yours."  
  
Buffy dropped her hairbrush. "I don't have one just yet. I've been awake from a nine month coma for less than a week and suddenly we're back to my lovelife. What about my sanity? My friendships? Family? Jobs? College? I feel like I'm living in a version of a soap opera!"  
  
I watched as she stalked to her bedroom. I followed closely behind. "I don't think anything like that about you."  
  
She turned to me. "Sex! It's always about sex, isn't it?"  
  
"What?" I gasped, stopping. I almost thought my heart had stopped beating. "You... sex? You? Sex?"  
  
"I'm sorry," she deadpanned. "I didn't mean to say that. Dawn, just... go back to bed."  
  
"Now? This was getting so good."  
  
"Dawn!"  
  
"Please. I have to know. I'll talk to your friends. I'll talk to Spike."  
  
"You will not talk to Spike. Bloody hell, Dawn, have I taught you anything?"  
  
"You talk like him? I guess the sex part is off limits until, what, he acts human?"  
  
"I'm not in love with Spike!"  
  
"Sure, say that now. Obviously you do have a paramour, and I'd like to know who he is."  
  
"Okay," Buffy said, finally giving up. "You really want to know who's rocking my world? You want to know the one person I haven't been able to keep my mind off? You want to know the one person who will do just about anything for me?" She dropped her voice. "Forget it."  
  
"Buffy," I said gently, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. "You're my sister. I love you. I'm worried about you."  
  
"I know, Dawnie," she said, sharing one of her awesome smiles with me as her hand gently touched my hair. "Sometimes I still think of you as a little girl. But you're so grown up."  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
"Giles," she finally said, in a hollow voice. "It's Giles."


	11. Questions

No pretenses. Just read. And review. Hope you enjoy! :) Chapter 12 will come after the weekend, since I'll be camping.  
  
POV's: Willow, Anya, Spike.  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 11  
Questions  
  
** * * * * *   
  


The sun was still burning brightly in the sky when I got off work. I dropped my keys on the floor as I slumped inside, exhausted. I had maybe two hours of sleep before being tortured back into working at the museum. Not to mention school.  
  
Dawn was waiting for me, sitting on the bottom step, a sucker tucked into the inside of her mouth. She had been reading her homework for English but the moment I stepped in, she stood up and dropped her text aside. I could tell she had something on her mind. Something that she needed to talk about.  
  
I gave her a tired smile and stood against the door. "Dawn."  
  
She opened her mouth and then closed it. "I want to talk about Buffy," she finally said, looking down at her feet. I knew this face. It had been something I'd seen several times when Buffy had been incapacitated.   
  
"What do you want to know?" I asked, feeling somewhat less than inadequate. I had no idea what she was on about, except for one thing, and it brought a trace of weariness.   
  
Dawn followed me into the kitchen where I took a package of chicken from the fridge and handed it to her. "See if you can do something with this," I said gently as she unwrapped the package.   
  
"Eww," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly against the slimy chicken breasts. Then her face sobered and she glanced up. "She told me about Giles."  
  
I coughed. It was an involuntary reaction. She'd told Dawn about Giles? "What do you want to know?" I asked, gently taking the chicken breasts from her hands and putting them in a glass bowl with water.   
  
"Is she romantically involved with him?"  
  
I laughed. I couldn't help it. My laughter sounded silvery to my own ears, but Dawn looked so earnest and concerned my laughter died away. "No," I finally said. "She's not romantically linked with Giles."  
  
Dawn sighed and stood up, going back into the fridge and taking out a head of lettuce, handing it to me. "We were talking this morning and she told me about her and Giles. About how much he cared for her, about how much he watched over her when she was out, things like that. She makes it sound like they're closer than just Slayer and Watcher, but... there's a different connection. Something deeper."  
  
I shrugged as she handed me a bag of carrots and a bell pepper. "That's what I'm beginning to suspect. In the whole hour we spent talking last night, I asked her about it. She just told me I was asking too many questions."  
  
"I wish she were here," Dawn replied, ducking back out of the fridge, an armload of vegetables and cheeses tucked carefully in her grasp. "I could ask her myself. Ever since she told me it was Giles, I kept asking myself, what?"  
  
"Exactly," I said, rinsing off the lettuce as Dawn pulled out the chopping board and a long knife. My stomach turned as she flipped the knife carefully in her hands. Just over a year ago, she had pulled out the same weapon and had drawn it across her arm to prove that she wasn't the key. She pulled over the pepper and began chopping it.  
  
"I'm not sure what her deal is," she said slowly. "She keeps acting like her life is one big soap opera. But as far as I can see, she's my sister and she's the Slayer."  
  
"She proved last night she was in excellent form," I agreed, setting the lettuce aside and reaching for the tomato. "Did you take out the carrots?"  
  
She pushed a bag toward me as she placed the chopped green pepper into a bowl and set it aside. "She fought again?"  
  
"She saved our lives," I replied. "My magic was completely off. I was unprepared, even though we were on patrol. Had Spike just been there, most certainly Anya and I would have died."  
  
Dawn looked impressed as she began peeling carrots. "That's my sister. Always doing the stupid thing."  
  
"Hello all," a third voice said as Tara swept into the kitchen, setting her backpack aside. I'd forgotten she had late classes on Mondays. "Can I help with dinner?"  
  
I nodded toward the cabinet. "The rice is in there."  
  
She smiled and kissed my shoulder before turning back to the cabinet, humming slightly. Dawn glanced at me as she sliced the carrots, almost as though she were asking if Tara knew. I nodded slightly and she smiled, relieved as she swept the carrots off the cutting board into the salad.  
  
"I'm not sure if Buffy knows what's been going on," I replied slowly, shredding the lettuce into the salad bowl. "She was unconscious for almost nine months. She probably doesn't know that Giles has been dedicated, staying there twenty four hours a day for almost nine months. Hell, he moved into her hospital room. He loves her more than just a Watcher would love his Slayer. He loves her as a person."  
  
"That's Giles' point of view," Tara said, opening the bag of rice and carefully measuring out a cup. "What about Buffy's?"  
  
"She's a strong woman," I said, trying to emphasize my point. "She knows what she's doing. She certainly did last night."  
  
Dawn glanced at me a moment as I finished shredding the lettuce. I then moved my attention back to the chicken and placed it in a bowl, pouring marinade over it. "Maybe now is not the time to work on her love life," she finally said, reaching for the cucumber. She turned her attention toward Tara a moment. "Maybe all she needs is a break from love and all that stuff, and maybe she just needs to concentrate on slaying."  
  
"Perfect assumption," Tara replied, setting the pan on the stove and turning the dial. "I would suggest it to her myself except I don't want to be beaten to a pulp."  
  
"She wouldn't do that," I replied with a smirk, throwing away Dawn's garbage. "She'd kill you by lynching first."  
  
"She really would," Dawn echoed, handing Tara an onion to slice. "I think this salad is almost done. It looks colorful."  
  
"It'll look even better with these," I replied, holding out a bright yellow pepper. Dawn rolled her eyes and took it to rince it. I took over her job of chopping up the cucumber. "The point is, Buffy has enough to take care of now. She doesn't need us to ask questions about her love life. She wants to patrol. And read. And get caught up on her studies, especially if she plans on returning to college this fall. She's got more than enough to handle. I say we support her the best we can."  
  
"I'm agreeing with the supporting," Tara said with a small smile as she poured the rice into the boiling water and gave it a vigorous stir. "This smells delicious."  
  
"It really does," Dawn replied, slipping the chicken breasts onto a platter to grill outdoors. She took the knife from me and handed me the platter. "This has got to be the best dinner we've made for her since she's gotten home, right?"  
  
"The first is always the best," Tara replied with a smile, mixing the vegetables in the salad bowl while the rice simmered behind her. "She's probably been dying for a home-cooked meal."  
  
"One that speaks with love," Dawn replied enthusiastically, happily chopping at the second pepper. "Do we still have the peas from last week?"  
  
"Yeah, we should," I replied, opening the back door. "I'm going to grill these."  
  
Tara smiled at me as she wiped up Dawn's mess and brought down a total dining set for four.   
  
Dawn reached behind Tara and pulled out a bag of peas and handed them to Tara, who rinsed them and poured them on top of the salad. "Salad looks yummy," she said, glancing at Dawn, who had just added the lighter peppers.   
  
"It really does."  
  
Behind them, the front door opened and closed. Buffy appeared a few moments later, a look of shock registering across her face. "It smells like a professional chef's television show in here."  
  
"You didn't happen to dream you were on Emeril when you were sleeping, did you?" Dawn asked her sister curiously while Tara tossed the salad.   
  
"No," Buffy said, her face screwing up in concentration. She shook her head. "Don't remember anything with food in it, except..." A strange look crossed her face as she glanced at the salad. "There were veggies involved. And it involved a food fight. With-"  
  
"Stop!" Dawn cried, lifting up her hand. "Don't want to hear anymore."  
  
Buffy looked slightly amused as she crossed her arms. "Fine. Don't ask about my dream with Colin Farrell."  
  
"What?" Dawn gasped. "You had a dream involving Colin Farrell? No way!"  
  
Buffy laughed and shook her head as she sat on a stool. Behind her, I came back into the kitchen, handing the platter to Tara, who was starting to wash the dishes we had used to make dinner.   
  
"Why don't you try a better question?" she asked Dawn brightly as Dawn checked on the rice.   
  
"I would, except I don't know what to ask without sounding completely stupid," she replied, sampling the salad. "That's pretty good."  
  
"It's going to get even better," I replied, pulling out several bottles of salad dressing and salad toppings. "Dawnie, want to help me get this stuff into the dining room?"  
  
She nodded and picked up the plates and silverwear, following me into the dining room. I could see her frustration from not having asked Buffy what had been first and foremost on her mind. "Why didn't you ask her?"  
  
"Couldn't think of a way to ask," she replied, a disgusted look crossing her face as she set the table. "How do you ask: 'Do you dream of having sex with anyone?' really slightly offensive."  
  
"We all do, Dawnie," I replied with a sad note to my voice. "We all do." Tara called out from the kitchen that the chicken was almost ready. "Why don't you bring in the salad and I'll get the rice? We'll let Buffy rest. Who knows. She might have actually been doing something fun today."  
  


* * * * *  
  


"She kept hasseling me," I complained, glancing as my employer quietly went through his filing. "She was walking around, asking me these stupid questions about patroling, about the demons we've killed, about vampires in general, everything! She was really annoying!"  
  
He barely acknowledged me other than a brief look and hasty smile. Damn him. My patience was wearing thin.  
  
"She kept walking around the store, Giles, touching things. She was touching the statues and the mummy purification device, even though it spoils after fingerprints touch it. Giles? Giles? Giles!"  
  
He glanced at me, as though hoping I would go away. His eyes were drawn narrow and his mouth was pinched. So he was annoyed. Good. It kept me from getting even more pissed off. "What do you want me to do? Knock her out another nine months?"  
  
"Please!" I begged him. He rolled his eyes and glanced back down at his files. "Giles... You refused to talk to her today. You refused to have anything to do with her. You told me to keep her entertained. I did. I put the boombox in the training room and she trained to her little heart's content. Then she wanted to take a tour of our new ancient Egypt line, so I took her through, and... Giles, are you even listening to me?"  
  
"You were talking about entertaining Buffy," he replied, shuffling through papers. "And something about her heart. Did she say anything about that?"  
  
"You're asking me a question?" I gasped, bringing a hand to my heart. "I don't know anything about her heart. All I know is that when we were out patroling, I almost got beheaded by an ugly one-horned demonoid again. I thought you said they weren't coming back!"  
  
"There were bound to be a few left," he grumbled, stuffing the folders back into the cabinet and rising with a stretch. "Continue."  
  
"Thanks," I replied sarcastically before continuing. "She came out and took out vampires and the demon. She totally saved Willow and I. And then she starts spewing at Spike about him finding her in your new shirt we bought yesterday and naturally assumed you two... well, had sexual intercourse."  
  
Giles burst out laughing. "What. What! What?" He stopped at my impatient what's and sighed.   
  
"Spike is a bloody git," he finally replied, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes. "Buffy is the Slayer and as her official Watcher, it's not in my nature to take that kind of relationship up with her."  
  
"You never said however," I replied, suddenly finding interest in my expensive Gucci shoes, "that you're not attracted to her."  
  
"I'd be lying if I said I weren't," he replied softly. "Now, it's almost eight o'clock. Why don't you go and close the store."  
  
I nodded and left the office, reaching for the sign to flip it to 'CLOSED'. As I did, I noticed a face on the other side of the glass and gasped.  
  
Spike opened the door, his familiar smirk filling out his rugged face. Xander was right behind him, fighting with the zipper on his jacket. They were arguing loudly about patroling that night. Behind them was Buffy, with Willow, Tara and Dawn trailing. They all swept into the shop and I finally was able to close and lock the door. "Well, now, isn't this great?" I muttered to myself, turning around to face the scooby gang.  
  
Buffy was standing alone, off to the side, a mischevious expression on her face. Her eyes were slightly narrowed and she wore a look of grim satisfaction. Spike stood behind her, off to the left, his own face twisted into a scowl. Willow, Tara, Dawn and Xander had taken their usual seats at the table and were passing around the coffee drinks Dawn had brought from the coffee shop she worked at.   
  
Finally, as though he were being tortured by magic, Giles came from the back office, looking slightly surprised to see everyone there at sundown, even though we'd been gathering at sundown since we all started patroling together. "Buffy?" he asked in a gentle voice. "What are you doing here?"  
  
The spell had been broken as she turned around, looking caught in the act. "Going on patrol," she replied in a measured voice. "Isn't that what slayers do?"  
  
There was an unquestionable strand that refused to break, since they couldn't take their eyes off each other. "Fine," he said, his voice just as controlled. "You lead tonight. I'll be back at my place."  
  
Her eyes finally broke and glanced down, shaking her head slightly. "I would really appreciate it if you could go out into the field with us..."  
  
His eyes widened ever so slightly. She was looking at him, a slightly wounded look in her emerald eyes. He finally nodded, ever so slightly. "I'll come."  
  
Spike, standing next to Giles, rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Anyone for breaking the stupid tension and going to kick some demon ass, follow me."  
  
Almost everyone stood up. Giles nor Buffy moved, however, much to my surprise. And, apparently, to Spike's, as well.  
  


* * * * *  
  


What the hell was wrong with these people?  
  
I glanced at Buffy, who was still staring at the Watcher, her eyes all full of puppy love, almost trying to break the thin layer of ice wedged between the two since I'd begun my accusations just a mere day before.  
  
One. Bloody. Day. That was all it took for Buffy and the Watcher to completely avoid each other in broad daylight. But they had given themselves freely to the night. This I found curious. Too curious.   
  
I stood just inside the door as the others filed outside. The Slayer and the Watcher were still standing there, looking at each other. The Watcher broke first and walked past me. But when she turned around, my heart, if it could still beat, would have stopped at the look on her face. She looked almost melancoly, dazed and distracted. A distracted Slayer was a careless one. I stepped aside as she walked past me. Her arm brushed against mine. To me, it was cold. And I didn't have any warmth to begin with.   
  
I followed her out, pulling the door closed behind me, trapping all of the unanswered questions inside.  
  
As soon as we got out of the civilized area, Giles divided us into two teams. He sent the witches with Dawn off in one direction, and asked Xander and Anya to go with them. Bloody hell. That left the three of us to enter the cemetary.  
  
We did. Buffy walked slightly ahead of us, her head held high, the stake she'd pulled from her jacket clenched tightly in her hand.   
  
I saw the first demon. It was another one of those annoying one-horned demons. It was glaring at us, almost beckoning us to come to it. Buffy was the first to jump.  
  
She took a flying run at it, kicking its chest and bouncing uselessly off. It took her by the arm and twisted it behind her, before lifting her in the air and catapulting her fifty feet behind us, and we were still running at a quick pace. I snapped second, getting off two quick blows before it threw me against a headstone. I fell with a small cry of disgust. As I glanced up, I saw Buffy slowly getting up, while Giles let out a loud cry. The demon had a new toy.  
  
The new toy was that it could throw darts. Giles had apparently caught one on the edge of his tweed coat, piercing his skin lightly. The demon saw that it had struck its prey and went in for the kill.  
  
Buffy shot out of nowhere. She threw herself in front of the demon and tackled it backwards before it could kill Giles. I watched, stunned as it tossed her aside. By that time, Willow and Tara had arrived. Dawn was the first to come out, a crossbow aimed perfectly at the demon. Xander and Anya gasped and pulled back, trying to stay out of the fight.   
  
I missed the end of the fight. Oh, I heard incantations and spells and growls of pain and suffering, but I wasn't in tune with it. My eyes were drawn to the slayer, writhing in agony on the ground. As I approached her, she pulled out the sharp dart that had been lodged into her stomach. I reached out with a trembling hand to help her, but she batted my hand away. "Don't touch it..." she gasped, struggling to stand up as another thud sounded, letting both of us know the demon was down. "Poison..."  
  
She stumbled toward Giles. He was standing up and was trying to brush the residue from his jacket. He saw her. And his eyes widened as she collapsed, right in front of him. Dawn screamed and ran over to help her, but I quickly tugged the bit back, my own eyes wide as I saw Giles gently bend down over her, brushing her hair away from her face and telling her to hold on, that help was on the way. Behind me, Xander and Anya ran from the graveyard to call for help.  
  
My eyes were entranced on the Watcher bending over his Slayer, gently talking to her, helping her to sit up weakly. As he put his arm around her and held her to him to keep her warm, I could see the look in both of their eyes.  
  
Well. I'll be damned.


	12. The Living and the Dead

Here you be. :) Things start to get tense...  
  
POV: Buffy  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 12  
The Living and the Dead  
  
** * * * * *  
  


I was running. I tried not to look back.  
  
I look around me, and my stomach settles. I am standing on top of the platform, looking down. At the bottom, the portal is stretching wider and wider. Behind me, I can hear Dawn. She is crying, her broken sobs breaking my heart.  
  
I jump. I fall. I keep falling even as the portal closes around me, draining me. I feel my life slipping past and darkness starting to close in. I close my eyes to give myself up, when I feel the bottom drop beneath me and the portal above me closes.  
  
As I land, I can feel myself sink into the concrete. I can hear my friends around me, starting to move closer, their eyes wide in disbelief. Willow's small cries are comforted by Tara. Spike collapses near Xander, who cradles Anya. Giles stands off to the side, a dark look on his face, as though the battle was lost.  
  
I want to shout, to cry out, I'm all right, I'm fine. I can even stand up now, and rise. But they still stare at my silent body, broken, bleeding. Far above, I hear a scream and see Dawn, slowly coming down the ladder, a look of pure devestation on her face. I want to hug her, I just don't know how.  
  
I walk past my friends, past my Watcher. I see him brush the tiniest of tears from his eye as I pass him. I place a hand of comfort on his shoulder, which he doesn't seem to feel.   
  
I realize now I'm invisible, only walking among the living, but seen by the dead. Spike glances toward me and stares, his own tears drying to salt on his face, but then returns quickly to grieving for my fallen self.  
  
I stare at my body, disbelieving that it was really me. I was looking through a mirrored reality in which the real Buffy was gone and the grieving had begun. I was standing in a different reality, twisted, distorted.  
  
I walked away.  
  
I found myself crawling over the broken concrete. On a palette, I can see a body. Fearing, the worst, I rush to it as Dawn rushes past me. Rather, through me. She turns, as though she felt the strangest thing. Outside, I can hear Giles telling the others I'm gone.  
  
But I'm not. I'm here. Now.  
  
I glance down and see the body of Ben, the good Doctor. There is no pity in my eyes as I bent over and gently touch his mutilated corpse. "Why?"  
  
Of all the things in this new reality I could ask, could scream, I had to ask why. Why was I here, of all places? I had woken from this reality. This reality no longer existed to me.  
  
Yet I could feel the chill settle in.  
  
Was I in some sort of Heaven? Was I in Hell?  
  
I try and turn away, but I can't. I can feel someone next to me, yet gravity pulls me closer to pain, suffering, death.  
  
"Am I alive?" I ask, tilting my head to peer at Ben's once more.  
  
"You're not dead."  
  
I turn my head slightly to see Glory, standing next to me, staring at Ben. "All this time, I was a god, he was mortal and this whole coil has started to unravel. Do you ever feel like this is the last thing you ever needed?"  
  
"I'm not sure what I need," I replied softly.  
  
"The balance between the living and the dead is withering away," Glory replied as we walked away from Ben, the tower, the city itself. I was surprised to see sand beneath my feet just ten steps from the tower. I began to suspect it wasn't real. "The mortal coil is pissed off, and to tell you the truth, I don't blame them. Those demons are the first step in a new revolution that will come down and will suck the Earth not just into Hell, but into non existance."  
  
"It will destroy the world?" I was beginning to get suspicious now. Why was she telling me this?  
  
"I know that you're wondering why I'm telling you this," Glory said, pausing. Turning suddenly, she seized my shoulders. I gasped, surprised. "Because if I were still alive, I'd be the only thing standing before you and the mortal coil. You haven't seen pain. Or suffering. Or death. You haven't seen anything yet. When the risen finish what they've started, there won't be a world left to defend."  
  
The news sank into me slowly. My eyes widened. There was only one word on the tip of my tongue, and I spoke it though dazed. "What?"  
  
"You know it's been coming. You've seen the signs. They're coming, one by one, and they won't stop until you and all of your friends are dead," Glory replied, her voice taking on a dark hue.  
  
I blinked uncomprehendingly and forced myself to sit down. "Why now?"  
  
"The powers that be gave you the gift of life," Glory replied, walking slowly around me. "When you fell off the Tower, your life was spared. The oracles gave you breath, and you walk still. The First Evil has seen this, and has demanded the mortal coil reclaim you to join the dead. A great war has begun now, and you are the sole warrior for Earth."  
  
I shook my head. "There are others..."  
  
"Yes, I know. The witches, the seer, the ex-demon, the Watcher, the key and the reborn undead. You have your entire army to fight this evil. Hell, you defeated me."  
  
"I had a little help."  
  
"I want you to know this, because my own world is at risk," Glory replied. "I'm a god and even though you may have slowed me down, I will return."  
  
"Tell me what I'm going to face," I said instead, biting back a witty retort. She smirked and looked up. I followed her gaze and saw that night had fallen.  
  
"The one-horned demons are from a dimension much like my own," she began. "They are the warriors, trained to kill their intended targets, which would be you and your army, as well as those like you. Those are the first to come. Then come the ubervamps, the army of the First Evil, intended to wipe out the race of man. Then come the spirits of the undead, tainted followers of the Dead who roam the Earth, marking it for destruction. And then comes the final day, when the Earth turns to fire, to ash, and then disappears." She paused dramatically. "I was to be the first step, to take out the Slayer. The First promised me my powers and my dimension and with hell to pay would sit at the right hand side. But you killed me. Rather, your Watcher finished the job I started..."  
  
"What?" I gasped. "What about Giles?"  
  
Glory grew silent and paused behind me. "He killed Ben."  
  
The chills raced down my spine and I averted my gaze downwards. Giles was never that sort of violent person. He only did it to protect me. He had to have.  
  
"Your Watcher has a darker side to him," Glory continued to taunt. "I've watched your growing relationship with him. He thinks of you as more than just a pupil. You've become his life."  
  
I closed my eyes to think. "I'll die to protect him."  
  
"Honey," Glory laughed, gesturing to the desert around us. "Look where you are!"  
  
"What happened to me?"  
  
"A poison dart," she replied gleefully, pulling out a three-inch long dart with a sharp bronze tip. "It's wicked killer poison. Probably won't kill off your Slayer power. Wasn't meant to. This was meant to get rid of the Watcher."  
  
The cold chills started again. "You know I'll die to protect him."  
  
"It's not your time yet," Glory said, her voice almost sing-song. "There is so much left for you to do. If it hadn't been for me and my powers, your stupid guilt trip would have killed you."  
  
"I got the poison," I realized, touching the feathered end of the dart.   
  
"She finally grows a brain!" Glory enthused, sitting next to me. "Kid, I'll tell you a little story. See, there was you. And there were others waiting in line to be called by you. You died the first time and Kendra came along. Kendra died and Faith came. The Slayer line now falls under her. Whoever wants to rid the world of the Slayers..."  
  
"... has to come through Faith first, and then me," I realized. "Is Faith..."  
  
Glory laughed, her tinny laugh tinkling the dry air. "She's alive. Still in that reality you call jail. But soon enough they'll find her and kill her. And after that, one by one, they'll take out those that follow, until there's no one but you and the original evil, standing you in the face, wishing and hoping for a good kill before it makes the big finish."  
  
"Never," I spat out. "I'll break her out, I'll do anything I can to protect her."  
  
"So many people to protect, so much pressure," she chided softly. "I'm surprised you aren't running to your undead lovers arms."  
  
"He is not my lover," I spat.   
  
"And your Watcher?"  
  
"It's personal," I snarled, rising above her. "What happens between Giles and I happens."  
  
"You shouldn't be spending so much time worrying about him," Glory replied, rising to my height. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "The potential Slayers are on the target next. It doesn't matter if Faith dies first. All that matters is that the Watchers and the Slayers die. And then the world is ours."  
  
Glory scrutinized me a silent moment further. "I'll tell you one thing though. You humans never give up."  
  
"That's the general idea," I said, sighing as we started walking again. "Where are we anyway?"  
  
"Beats the hell out of me," she said thoughtfully. Finally she stopped. "You're going back to the waking world."  
  
"I am?" I asked, confused.  
  
"Soon," she nodded. "Don't underestimate the power of those around you. Your Watcher has more than just knowledge and wisdom. You will need him before the end. The witches, their power grows. And the Key, your sister. She is more important to you now than ever before."  
  
"Why are you telling me this?" I wondered aloud. "Aren't you supposed to be the bad guy?"  
  
"I believe in goodness now," she replied. "I can't help you anymore. I'm only here to guide you."  
  
It all began to make perfect sense now. Glory was a spirit guide. Or at least her figure was.   
  
"Thank you," I said, and meant it. She smiled at me and gestured beyond, where a dim light was starting to shine.  
  
I turned and walked through it, feeling like I'd been here before.  
  
I had.  
  
I opened my eyes and glanced around. The entire room was crowded with people. Dawn, Willow, Anya, Xander, Tara and Giles were crowded around me, all looking concerned. When Giles saw my eyes open, a flicker of a smile crossed his face. "Buffy."  
  
"Hi," I said weakly, extending my arms as Dawn gently helped me sit up. "How long have I been out?"  
  
"Almost six hours," Willow replied, her voice caustic. "We thought we were going to lose you."  
  
"No," I said, echoing what Glory had said. "The dart wasn't meant for a Slayer." I turned to Giles, my eyes shining with concern. "It was meant for you."  
  
The room grew very quiet.  
  
"What else do you know?" Giles asked me.  
  
I opened my mouth. And told them everything.  
  
After I have finished the last few words, Willow handed me a glass of water, which I drank quickly. Giles was silent a moment. It was Dawn who first spoke up. "Glory talked to you?"  
  
"My spirit guides can take the shape of anyone living or dead," I replied softly. "She was telling me my strengths, which I already knew, but she was also letting me know there's a significant danger out there we didn't know about."  
  
"The return of the First Evil, I assume," Giles finally said, speaking up. "But why your spirit guides thought to warn you, I'm uncertain."  
  
"I may have an idea," Tara began slowly, swallowing away her stutters. "You said that the world of the living and the world of the dead and evil are at war with each other. Obviously, our world is a living world and in the realm of all things good, our world really isn't all that bad. We need a defender and Buffy, that's you."  
  
"Yay?" I managed to gasp out as I drank another glass. "But the question is, what are we facing?"  
  
"Those demons that poisoned you," Willow said. "You mentioned those."  
  
"They're the bad guy's army," I replied sullenly.  
  
"Oh," Willow said, her eyes suddenly focusing. "Oh..." She turned and gave Tara a meaningful look. "If you're okay and everything, would you mind if we went into research mode? I've got a theory."  
  
I nodded as Willow took Giles by the arm and pushed him aside, speaking to him in quiet, urgent tones. Next to me, Dawn was bending down to hug me, which I accepted readily, but kept my eyes trained on Giles and Willow. "I have to work now, Buffy. I'll see you tonight?"  
  
"Be careful," I said, trying not to let my smile shake so. I gave her hand an extra squeeze. Xander and Anya left with Dawn to drive her to work, leaving Tara, Willow, Giles and I. After they had spoken, Willow took Tara by the arm and left, leaving Giles and me behind.  
  
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Finally, he tried speaking up. "Buffy, I..."  
  
"No, Giles, let me talk first," I said, trying to breathe, and knowing my face was tinting pink. "I didn't tell you everything. My spirit guide said that I would need you before the end. And she was right."  
  
His own eyes widened slightly as he took his glasses off to clean them. I could practically hear the fabric of his shirt rustling with the glass. He finally replaced them and frowned slightly. "I'm not quite sure what to say."  
  
"Then let me do the talking," I said, reaching for his arm and pulling him back to my bed. He sat gingerly down and turned his attention to me.  
  
"I've been alone, fighting, for five years now. I know I have my gang, and you, my Watcher, but ever since I woke up, things have been different. Things have changed. We've changed. I've come to depend on you for so much and now... I really do need you. But I'm not going to lie and say I'm not worried about you, because I am. Those demons are out for blood and the only way we're going to make it out of this alive is for you to be with me too."  
  
"You cannot risk the lives of everyone you love just to protect me, Buffy," Giles said gently. "That's not how it works."  
  
I almost laughed. "You ought to know me by now. It doesn't matter what happens, as long as you're okay. Because if you get hurt, you know..."  
  
My voice started to break. I couldn't speak anymore. Couldn't choke out another word, but forced myself to end the sentence. "You know I would die too."  
  
His face was an unreadable mask. He finally glanced away. "I won't lie to you either. The nine months you were sleeping were the most difficult months of my life. Even in the face of danger or the impending apocalypse, I knew I could count on you. When you were sleeping, it was so hard to see you as a normal woman, and not my Slayer."  
  
I glanced down and folded my hands, which were beginning to tremble slightly. "So I guess all bets are off now, huh?"  
  
He reached across and took my shaking hand into his. "I would say so, yes."


	13. Answers

As the person I wrote this for started complaining about the whole "Why does this have to go into action now", I'll rephrase a quote from the movie Speed... "Relationships built under extreme circumstances rarely last" or some such mojo.   
  
I do promise good romance. And I promise good fights. One of the two is going to hit Chapter 13, which is a lucky number for me and I decided to dedicate it to one of the two. Bet you can't guess which one. Okay, stupid monacer. I do hope you enjoy this.  
  
Chapter 14 will follow on Friday, with a bit more of the whole sequence thingy.   
  
POV's for 13: Willow. Giles.  
POV's for 14: Anya. Xander. Spike.  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 13  
Answers  
  
** * * * * *  
  


I was waiting for Giles that night, outside his front door. I had been waiting just under an hour when the sky opened up above me. Growling because of the very un-California like weather, I pulled up the hood to my sweatshirt and stood under the awning, staring up at the darkening sky.  
  
"What a sign for an apocalypse!" I yelled at the clouds.  
  
"Willow? What are you yelling at?" I turned and shielded the rain gliding down my face to see Giles walking down the steps, an umbrella twirling over him.   
  
"The rain," I mumbled, trying to find a justification for the humiliating experience of yelling at the clouds. "Why are you so..." The words died from my mouth as I saw a second figure behind him. Walking with just a small limp, Buffy stepped out from behind, the umbrella twirling over Giles' head coming to a dead stop.  
  
"Willow."  
  
"Buffy."  
  
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Finally Giles spoke up, muttering an apology about the situation. He felt it was safer to bring Buffy to his house to stay the night, considering both of their lives were still in immenent danger.   
  
I had to smile at that. So that's what it was called. Danger. Ha. "Okay," I said slowly. "But I thought you said you wanted me to come back here because we had a lot to talk about regarding the end of the world?"  
  
"Right," Giles said, leaning over and gently pushing Buffy under the awning next to me. He handed her his keys and she fiddled with the lock while he turned his attention to me. "How was research mode?"  
  
"We hit the books first," I began. "I had Xander look up the ancient texts that have forseen the coming of the age of darkness, in which the armies of the undead would circle the Earth, humans would die and everything would fall to nothing. It's never happened before obviously, but it did give detailed accounts on these demons. They've existed in our reality for over a decade, Giles. They work by manipulating their way to their prey. They work first by betrayal and cunning deceit. Then they go for the kill."  
  
"Hmm," he said, watching as Buffy opened the front door and he lead us inside. "What about the past decade?"  
  
"I went to the net for that," I continued. "The demons are the reason the Initiative existed after all. There was also an organization founded by those who worshipped them called the Anti-Initiative. You'll never guess who they found as their own hostile 17."  
  
"Spike?" Buffy asked, sliding off her coat and taking a seat on the couch. Giles sat right next to her, their shoulders lightly brushing.   
  
"Correct in one," I said, a trace of a grin splitting my serious demeanor. "After he was chipped, the Anti-Initiative took him in and performed all of these undead rituals, right down to him fighting these horrid creatures. They look and walk like regular vampires, but they are much harder to kill. They call them the ubervamps."  
  
Buffy sat up very straight. "That's what Glory said. She said there were ubervampires, which are the next step. They had some rather technical name, but that's what she called them."  
  
"They do," I replied, my tone turning grave. "And they've been killing certain females all over the world. Their masters are known as Bringers. You might recall them from the time that Angel was trying to kill himself."  
  
Both Buffy and Giles averted their gazes away from each other. "Of course," Buffy echoed silently, the sound bouncing off the walls.   
  
For a moment, all I heard was the raindrops on the roof. They finally glanced at each other, their eyes meeting tentatively, almost as though they were apologizing.  
  
For what?  
  
Finally, they both turned back to me. I cleared my throat and continued. "The Bringers gather the ones they've been sent to kill and the ubervamps take care of the rest. There have been seven suspicious deaths in the past three weeks alone, all overseas, except for one in rural Iowa three days ago. A girl was found stabbed to death and her body was... cut up into pieces and fed into an incinerator. Only when the girl's mother had noticed that these two men were doing it, she called the police. She later describes them as appearing as monks and says they had no eyes."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes. I imagine she was turning back the clock to three years ago, when Angel had to face the Bringers, and how Buffy had reacted to them. She opened her eyes again. I met her gaze and could see into the past, the great fear she had of these beings.  
  
She began to tremble and bit her lip, turning her gaze away from mine. Giles reached across and took her hand.  
  
It was the first time in as many years as I'd known both of them that I'd seen this gesture.  
  
"The Bringers have no weapons," I said, continuing my thoughts in a low voice. "They can be killed just as you could kill a human being. But, the ubervamps are deathly strong. No one has faced one and survived."  
  
"Until now."  
  
I nearly gasped at the grim determination in Buffy's voice. I turned to look at her. She had risen to her feet, although her hand was still locked inside Giles'. Her eyes had a cold, detached look to them I recognized as a hunger to kill. Her eyes scared me a bit. I swung my gaze to Giles and saw a completely different look in his eyes. Respect, awe and something else. Was it interest? Intrigue? It was something.  
  
"Anything else?" Buffy asked, an edge to her voice. I was beginning to suspect she was up to something, because suddenly she couldn't stand still.  
  
"Yes," I said, dropping my voice. "The ubervamps are going after the potentials. Once they have them all, they will go after the Council. And then your friends, Faith and finally you. They will force you to watch your friends die. And an email I got from an Indian monk speaks only of the truth, that someone you know and love will betray you."  
  
Buffy stopped moving and crossed her arms. "Why?"  
  
"Because the demons and Bringers work in mysterious ways," I said sadly. "It took us about three hours to find that out. What we spent the last three on is our game plan. We've already decided we need to go to Los Angeles, and break out Faith."  
  
Buffy started laughing. "You expect me to break the law?"  
  
"Faith had a point, Buffy," Giles said, finally speaking up as he rose to her height. "You are the law. When it comes to this, it's too dangerous to face alone."  
  
"For all I know, these assassins have already pinned Faith to betray me," she replied, gesturing toward the door. "This is a risk I cannot take, Giles. It could mean both of our lives and you know I can't lose you."  
  
"And I you," he said gently, before turning back to me. "After we rescue Faith?"  
  
"We give her a special assignment to stay away from California," I replied grimly. "Anya has already provided good contacts for demon-human inbreeds who are willing to travel and gather the other potentials. Faith will lead the group and take them to safehouse. After that's done, all we need to do is concentrate on protecting both of you."  
  
They looked at each other again. "It's risky," Giles said.  
  
"Almost too risky," Buffy replied, but turned to me with that familiar gleam in her eyes. "I like it."  
  
"Great," I breathed with relief. "Because I need to send someone else with her."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"I was thinking of sending Spike," I began uneasily. "He's been in league trying to hurt us before and now he knows he can betray us."  
  
"He won't," Buffy said softly. "I know he won't hurt me or Dawn. He promised."  
  
"Under the guise of being ruler of an everlasting hellworld, I'd imagine he'd do anything, Buffy," Giles replied gently as they both sat down again.   
  
"Spike is not going with Faith," she finally said. "I need the best warriors here, Giles, with the hellmouth and everything."  
  
"There's something else," I hesitantly spoke out. "This will put Faith in serious danger. If she's killed, then the next slayer who is called will also be in danger because she has to complete what Faith is already doing. It's time to change the rules. What if we had the power to do something about it?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Giles asked.  
  
"I'm not really sure," I replied. "Can you give me a few days to figure it out?"  
  
"I want to make one choice now," Buffy said, interrupting my thoughts. "If we're breaking Faith out, we should do it soon. I'm not going to ask either one of you to help me."  
  
I could tell that both Giles and I were going to protest this to the end. She could see it too and sighed. "Fine. You're coming. I was just going to have Spike burn it down or something."  
  
I stifled a chuckle. "When do you want to do this?"  
  
"Why do I feel like I'm part of an assassination plot?" Giles moaned.  
  
"Tomorrow," Buffy blurted out.  
  
"Tomorrow?" I echoed. "Why tomorrow?"  
  
"Tomorrow is Wednesday. Can you find a more boring day for a prison breakout?"  
  
I rolled my eyes, and I could see Giles take off his glasses.   
  
"We're going Wednesday."  
  
It was final. Just hearing the decrescendo is her voice was enough to put the topic to rest. "When?" I finally asked.  
  
"Tomorrow night, we'll leave for LA around dinnertime," Buffy said. "We'll leave Anya's demon friends here. We'll hit LA and the prison right at midnight or just a bit after. We'll need weapons," she said, automatically swinging her gaze to Giles. She dropped her gaze. "We should leave Dawn here, with Janice or someone."  
  
"Tara and I could stay behind," I offered.  
  
"No," she said, shaking her head. "We might need magic."  
  
"Now we are going illegal," Giles mumbled as we continued planning the next night. After an hour, I stood up and stretched. "I should get going. It's after ten."  
  
Buffy nodded and stood up, placing her arms lightly around me. "Say goodnight to Dawn for me?"  
  
"She should be home from work by now," I said, touching her shoulder. "And I'll call Janice's mom tonight and tell her that we're leaving town overnight because of an emergency."  
  
"Thank you, Willow," Buffy said softly, her hand dropping from mine. I saw her gaze stretch back to her Watcher's. I wasn't quite sure what to say to him. I mumbled another goodnight and stepped outside into the cool air.  
  
Letting out a long, pent-up breath, I began the long walk home.  
  


* * * * *  
  


I watched as my front door closed before I turned back to her. She was half facing me and still glancing at the door, a troubled look on her face. "Don't worry about Willow. She knows how to take care of herself."  
  
A smile flickered across Buffy's face. "I know."  
  
"What is it?" I asked, sitting down again and waiting for her to turn to me. She finally did.  
  
"It's this whole mission. Is it really worth getting caught?" Her words tumbled out so quickly I had problems following her thoughts. "Is it really worth risking our lives just to save Faith? What if she is the one who will betray us? What will happen if we're at her mercy? What if..."  
  
"No more," I said gently, rising to take her by the shoulders. Her eyes widened in surprise as they met my gaze. I gave her a small smile as she dropped her gaze, a nervous smile fluttering around her lips. "No more what's, if's or but's about this mission. Faith's life is in danger and she doesn't know it. You once said you would do anything to save her. Now is your chance."  
  
"Does she want it?" Buffy asked, her voice small. "She stabbed me in the back, Giles. She's used me. In my mind, her betrayal has already destroyed me. She tried to kill me, Giles."  
  
"I understand," I replied, releasing her as she continued to pace. "But what would she do if your position was in that jail?"  
  
"She would do everything she could to make me safe," Buffy replied, an ironic note in her voice. "Imagine that. Faith the humanitarian."  
  
I sat down, watching her pace back and forth. "She would do that, Buffy, because she knows it's the right thing to do."  
  
Buffy stopped. "What would you do?"  
  
"I quite imagine I would be going out there risking my own neck to save someone with my powers," I answered quietly. "This isn't a question of right and wrong. It's a question of protecting the Slayer line, because if Faith dies..."  
  
"It's all over," Buffy moaned, collapsing next to me with a sense of defeat. She sighed, plunking her leather boot-clad feet on the coffee table. "What if I can't do this Giles? What if I'm not strong enough?"  
  
"You have to believe in yourself, as you always have," I smiled. "I've always believed in you, your capabilities. I have no doubt that everything will turn out okay."  
  
I saw her swallow hard as she turned to look at me. "You believe in me?"  
  
"Always," I replied, sighing as I slouched back on the couch. "Even in impending doom, you've always managed to make it right."  
  
She sniffed and dropped her head to my shoulder. "I want to know I'm doing the right thing. I'm risking so many lives on Faith."  
  
"We won't be completely unprepared," I replied. "We'll have the use of magic, weapons, and-"  
  
"Will you be there beside me?" she asked, interrupting my excitement.   
  
I nodded slowly. Her head dropped comfortably back onto my shoulder and she sighed. "I could sleep for a week," she murmured. I could tell she'd closed her eyes. I reached behind me and pulled the afghan we'd been laying against and spread it over her.   
  
"Here," I said, gently wrapping the frayed edges of the blanket around her. "Sleep all you need." I started to rise, but her fingers reached out and took my hand.  
  
"Will you stay here a while?" she asked, a smile on her face. "I just need to feel someone strong beside me."  
  
I nodded again and sat back down as she leaned against me, propping the pillow against my side. Her feet kicked and her boots fell to the floor, clunking loudly as she curled up against me. "I'm so sleepy," she yawned, snuggling under the blanket. I smiled at her.  
  
I watched as she fell asleep. I could see her face ease into a realm of calmness. I listened to her breathing, to the silence beat of her heart as my Slayer slept.  
  
I could feel my eyes starting to water from my own lack of sleep. With a small yawn, I leaned my head back, took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes.  
  
The truth was, I trusted my Slayer. With my life. She had risked her life the night before and had taken the poisoned dart for me. She had risked death for me. Did that say anything? The Slayer only protected those she loved. I knew she loved me, as something of a mentor. But as I sleepily glanced at her and her calm face, I began to realize it was so much more.   
  
Bending down, I brushed my lips against the top of her blonde head and tipped my own until it reached hers and closed my eyes.  
  


* * * * *  
  


It's a _start_... more in 14 :)


	14. Plans

First of all... this took WAY longer than I expected to write. I thought it'd take me the usual 3-4 hours. Ha. Try two to three days. My apologies. Second of all, I switched the POVs around too, so the story would make more sense.  
  
So. Chapter 14 POV's: Buffy, Anya, Spike  
And since 15 is a continuation of 14: Willow, Giles.  
  
And now...  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 14  
Plans  
  
** * * * * *  
  


The sunlight was touching my face. I felt like I wanted to sleep even more, but for some reason, I felt compelled to open my eyes.  
  
I forced them open.   
  
I was lying on a sofa, in Giles' apartment. Glancing at the heap of blankets twisted at the end, I realized he must have got up. Curling into a little ball, I lifted the pillow to block the sun and closed my eyes again. It seemed way too early to get up or even move.   
  
I could feel a weight on the other end of the sofa. Opening an eye, I saw Giles sit down, gently setting a cup on the table in front of us. I had to open both eyes and chuckled. His hair was sticking up and out on the sides, and his glasses were crooked on his face. I knew he didn't know I was watching him, because he pushed the heap of blankets on top of me and settled back on his end, a book in hand. I watched him as he read a while. He was reading the "100 Reasons Why..." book and I could see from the intense look of distaste on his face that he found the 100 Reasons Why Muskrats are bad housepets an even worse waste of time. Finally deciding to give him a break from misery, I stirred and stretched. He immediately snapped the book shut and turned to me. "Good morning," he said, his voice full of cheerfulness.  
  
"Morning," I yawned sleepily as I sat up, stretching. "What time is it?"  
  
"About seven thirty," he replied, lifting up the cup he had set on the table and handing it to me. "This is for you."   
  
I took it and sipped at it. It wasn't half bad. It tasted a bit like tea, but was quite sweet. "What is this?" I asked, cupping my hands around the mug and swinging my legs down to the floor to give him a bit more room.  
  
"A chai latté," he replied, setting the book down and standing up. "I figured you might need it before the morning meeting."  
  
"Which is when?" I asked, risking another sip.  
  
"About an hour from now," he replied, watching as I brushed the blankets off of me. Automatically, he began to fold them up. "You can have the first shower if you want."  
  
I smiled at him and stood up, dragging my overnight bag and mug of chai latté with me. The temptation of hot water was overwhelming, considering I was wearing the clothes I'd worn after I'd left the hospital.  
  
It was the first brush of hot water that awakened me. The hot water was absolutely wonderful on my cramped back. As I turned to the front, I noticed a small white bandage covering the area where the dart had struck me. I carefully peeled back and lathered, the steam swirling about me.   
  
Then I opened my eyes. This was probably the last shower I would be taking before I would be risking my life for someone who, two years ago, had almost killed me. The water suddenly became scalding as a chill penetrated my spine. Forcing the issue from my mind, I rinsed my hair and stepped out the shower, wrapping myself in a large striped towel.   
  
I quickly tied a robe around me and took my bag into the kitchen so I could blow-dry my hair while Giles showered. He was staring at me with a mixture of surprise and interest as I breezed past him. The book he'd been reading earlier was propped in his lap. "See a ghost?" I asked him, pulling the towel from my hair and plugging in my dryer.  
  
He was still staring at me as he stood up. "I just haven't had a woman pass through my bathroom in quite a while, I guess," he replied, a faint touch of pink coloring his face. "Excuse me."  
  
I shrugged and turned on my dryer, flipping my hair, which was, for some reason, being stubborn.  
  
I finally turned off the dryer, running a hand through my hair, every single inch of it dry. I let out a short breath. I hated going anywhere with wet hair. It was more of a pet peeve of mine than anything. Even worse than Dawn borrowing my clothes.  
  
I picked up the towel from the kitchen floor and set it aside as I dressed quickly. Realizing there was no sound coming from the bathroom, I rapidly packed my bag and took the towel back.  
  
The door was still almost closed, but not latched. Hearing the sound of running water, I assumed it was safe to return the towel to the bathroom. I pushed open the door, my view expanding until...  
  
I dropped the towel. My eyes widened and my face was automatically flushed. Before I could utter a sound, I forced myself to turn and walk quickly back down the hallway.  
  
Feeling like I was about to collapse, I sat down, trying to control my beating, but my heart kept speeding up. Taking a deep breath wasn't helping, so I yanked my mug to me and gulped down the rest of the latté. That didn't help either, except to add butterflies to the anxiety pitted in my stomach.  
  
I heard footsteps and touched my face, still scalding hot.   
  
"I'll be ready to go in about ten minutes," Giles said, breezing past me, now fully dressed. "I just have to finish dressing. And we should pick up some donuts before we get to the Magic Shop."  
  
"Right," I said, my voice unusually high and squeaky.   
  
He disappeared upstairs and I let out a long breath. He hadn't seen me, walking out of the shower, his gaze had been twisted to turning the water off. But I had seen the full view, the full monty, or whatever those British called it.  
  
Yet I couldn't laugh. I was shocked, beyond shocked even. What I had seen, and it had been quite a bit, had been rather...  
  
"You okay?" Giles asked from the top of the stairwell.  
  
I quickly turned to look at the stairs, my eyes darting everywhere except up. "Just great. Mmhmm."  
  
I heard him laughing upstairs. Giving up on all resolve not to think about what I'd seen, I plunked my head against the couch, moaning. How could any woman not be impressed with that? I had seen Giles, the Giles, walking out of the shower.   
  
Well, now. That certainly added yet another complication to the whole deal.  
  
I heard footsteps behind me and stood up, feeling I was finally ready to face him. I picked up my bag as he walked past me without another glance. "Thanks for throwing that towel in."  
  
My mouth was so dry I couldn't speak. Couldn't even utter a sound. His eyes widened as he turned to me, his eyes questionably gazing into mine. I knew I would probably betray the thoughts and part of me was hoping he would see the truth. Finally, he shook his head and opened the door. I almost happily ran past him and up the stairs toward the shiny convertible, the top still up.  
  
"How about we take the top down today?" he asked, pressing the button. I watched as the top lowered into position before he got out of the car and opened the passenger door for me.  
  
"Thanks," I finally stuttered, getting into the car. As we took off, I could feel my heartrate return to normal. Maybe things are getting back to what they were.  
  
"You know," Giles said softly as he slowed at a stop sign. "Last night was most restful night of sleep in over nine months."  
  
Then again, maybe not.  
  


* * * * *  
  


I was waiting with Xander, my nose buried in a copy of Modern Bride. As I turned the pages, hiding one delightfully tacky bride after another, Xander sat next to me, a large dusty newspaper babbling on and on about dead girls. Who cared about dead girls? I also had a wedding to plan.  
  
The door burst open as Tara came in. Willow was absent because she had an earlier class. Behind her was Giles, followed closely by Buffy, two large white boxes in her arms. "I bring essentials!" she said, her voice unusually tight as she set the boxes down right in front of me, pulling them both open with an expression of gusto. "Dig in."  
  
The nerve of her! Here I was trying to find a wedding dress to fit my midriff and here she was trying to get me to eat one of those horrid fried blobs!  
  
Ooh, was that a jelly one?  
  
After we'd sufficiently stuffed ourselves on the oversugared bobbles, Buffy called the meeting to order to go over every detail. She began with: "I know you're all scared. I'm scared too." She glanced up and exchanged a private glance with her Watcher. "But we need to do this. We leave at 2 this afternoon. The Magic Box will be closed early for repairs. Dawn will be staying with Janice. And the rest of us are going to pack up. As soon as we're done here, I'm going to rent a van. With tinted windows so our undead warriors can join us."  
  
She continued to babble on and on, going over each and every minute of the plan. Honestly, did she think we were that dense? Finally, she shut up. I returned my gaze to the magazine. It wasn't a minute before the door burst open and Willow swept in, looking harried and windblown. After a quick hug from Tara, she took the reins from Buffy and another half hour of spew came out.  
  
I actually wanted to go back to the horrendously overdressed skimpy models in the magazine. But I forced myself to listen to Willow until she finally stopped talking, selected her own glazed roll, and sat down, pulling her laptop out of her bag.  
  
Buffy had finally sat down, trying to look through a narrow binder Tara had given her. After she came back from calling for the van, Giles disappeared into his office and Buffy pulled Willow aside. After Buffy whispered urgently to her, Willow pulled back, her eyes wide in shock. "No way!"  
  
"Yes way," Buffy said, pulling her closer and continuing to talk to her in those impatient tones. Pretending I wasn't eavesdropping, I continued to flip through my magazine. Next to me, Xander was completely immersed in research.  
  
I sighed a bit, trying loudly to interrupt their giggles as I reached across and took another roll, chewing loudly and moaning so loudly that Xander was kicking me under the table. Rolling my eyes, I stuffed the last bit into my mouth as Buffy and Willow separated.   
  
It was just after one when Spike showed up, under his usual smoldering blanket, his eyes for once not suspicious, but accepting. I growled under my breath, but Xander held me back as both Giles and Buffy explained the plan to him.  
  
"We leave in an hour. We make it down to just north of LA. We sit, we have dinner, we watch the sunset, fine. We wait until eleven. We go to the prison and we use magic to disengage the security systems around the gate and somehow two or three of us get in. Obviously, that means you and me. And maybe Anya. She has good experience with this."  
  
At this, I rolled my eyes.  
  
"We head toward the main tower first. We have to use a spell that Willow thought up to confuse the guards into thinking there's a riot in the next section. That's where we need you, to create a distraction in the other areas. I thought about kidnapping another vampire and just letting him have a free-for-all, but the less dead bodies, the better."  
  
"Are you on bleeding crack?" he gasped out. "I'm chipped and can't play anymore, or have you forgotten? The moment I grab another human being, I get a bloody migrane."  
  
"That's where Anya steps in," Buffy replied, turning to me. "You don't get hurt when you fight her, do you Spike? She's going to be part of your distraction."  
  
"I am?" I asked. "When did I agree to this?"  
  
"About three hours ago when you kept saying 'mmhmm mmhmm' to everything I was suggesting," she replied wryly.  
  
"Oh. Well, continue."  
  
Buffy turned back to Spike. "Anya's going to pull a weapon. Because she's a vengeance demon, the bullets won't kill her. They'll hurt her, but she won't die. Hopefully you and her fighting and causing a ruckus and even if you decide to break out a few prisoners, no maiming or torture. I'm not looking forward to breaking the law even more than I already am." She took a deep breath. "I'll go in and find Faith, bust her out and somehow get her back to the van where the rest of you will be waiting."  
  
"Sounds like a plan," Spike said, his tone ironic. "Anya and I spar, you break out the vixen and the witches and Watcher wait by the van as a safety net." His eyes flicked toward Giles. "I imagine you're trying to keep your Man away from all danger considering you took his last blow."  
  
Buffy tinted pink and I saw Giles' eyes narrow dangerously. Spike was walking on some pretty thin ice. "He is not my Man," Buffy hissed, keeping her eyes low.   
  
But I saw differently, the way her face was scarlett when she glanced up, her eyes were narrow and they held a bit of fire in them. "Unless you want to dispute it," she said dangerously. "I have Mister Pointy waiting. He's been itching for a good slay."  
  
Spike's eyes widened and he took a step back. "No need to get all defensive, luv."  
  
"Stop. Calling. Me. That."  
  
Oh my. Spike and Buffy, once again at odds. This was almost delicious.  
  
"I can call you whatever I bloody please. Remember, you said we were partners. Equal share, fair respect, all that bloody muck. You can't keep playing the games, Slayer."  
  
"I can do whatever the hell I want to do."  
  
This was way more than delicious.  
  
"Then do it, Slayer. Stake me."  
  
"You don't think I would?" she asked, a laugh sounding from her. "You don't think I could?" As she stepped forward, she brought out the stake hiding conveniently in her back pocket. "You wouldn't see it coming if I did."  
  
"That's enough," Giles growled softly, pulling Buffy away from Spike, almost roughly.   
  
"Trying to protect your Slayer, aren't you Watcher? You don't want your good girl to become a killer like the vixen."  
  
"That's enough, Spike." It was Willow who spoke up this time, her face was flushed, and her eyes had their own fire in them. "Unless you want to be cursed and immoralized for all eternity, shut up."  
  
Spike shut his mouth and I let out my long breath. I had expected there to be ashes and blood. Not a lot, but enough to be entertained. Even my magazine was beginning to bore me.   
  
Spike backed off, unclenching his fists. Buffy stood next to Giles, his hand still cuffing her right arm, but he really wasn't holding her back as much as he was holding her to him. To me, it was a suspicious gesture.  
  
The Magic Box fell silent. Buffy, Willow and Tara went out to get supplies, such as picnic materials and blankets. Giles stayed behind with me as we went over our accounting records. Xander was now flipping through my bridal magazine upside down.  
  
Spike was sitting on the ladder, a curious look on his face, almost as though he didn't want to believe what he was seeing.  
  
I'm not sure I wanted to believe it myself.  
  
Was it just me, or was there something going on between the Watcher and the Slayer?  
  


* * * * *  
  


It was just after nightfall. The cool breeze assaulted my lungs, filling the dead organs with dead air I couldn't breathe anyway.   
  
We had just pulled over a few miles from the prison. After a rather uneventful dinner, we had retreated back to the van. The only thing of interest was that Giles had pulled Buffy aside. Trying not to eavesdrop, I had lit up a cigarette and stood at the back, barely catching the tail end of their conversation.  
  
"I'm not letting you go in there, Giles. You could die, and I can't lose you. Not now." Her voice was awfully urgent.  
  
"You won't lose me and this is my fight as much as it is yours."  
  
"Giles, no. I actually... c-c-care what happens to you, so you can't go. I'm the Slayer. That's the final word."  
  
So. Buffy cared for him. Is that what she called it?  
  
I had seen it in her eyes earlier. When I had sharply retorted my words about her and Giles, her eyes had dropped down and she had blushed a furious shade of red.   
  
There was something going on there. And during dinner, I saw their wayward sideways glances at each other. More was going on that met the eye.  
  
Interesting scenario. Enter the Slayer, just back from a nine-month long coma. The first person she turns to is the Watcher who's stood by her for six years.  
  
Pathetic really.  
  
I stubbed out my cigarette and hauled myself back into the back of the van. They didn't consider me human enough to sit in the front.  
  
Buffy and Giles also got in, but Giles was behind the steering wheel, Buffy in the passenger seat as their conversation continued.  
  
"Thank you for letting me stay at your house last night," Buffy said softly. "It meant a lot that you slept with me too."  
  
"You're quite welcome," Giles said, removing his glasses. "And it was the best night of sleep I've had since before you fought Glory."  
  
"Giles," Buffy said in a soft voice. "I know I never told you any of this... but when I was dreaming, I had a vision about Ben." She glanced up at him. "Did you kill him?"  
  
Giles glanced at her and slowly nodded.  
  
Bloody hell. Even he was being honest with her.  
  
"I did it because I knew the consequences of him and Glory rising again would be. Your sister would be in even graver danger and you would most certainly be dead by now."  
  
I heard a small sniffle as Buffy choked out a few tears. "I never thought you would do that for me."  
  
She considered murder a precious gift? What the hell was this?  
  
"Because you did it for Dawn too."  
  
That's what it was all about. Buffy, the selfless Slayer, was thanking someone with gratitude because they had saved someone she loved. What about me? Part of my envy in her growing relationship with the Watcher was that they had a deeper connection than we ever had. All we had was violence. They had the trust, the compassion, the communication and the intelligence, all wrapped up into the precious Slayer and her precious Watcher.  
  
Giles mumbled something I wasn't quite sure I heard. And then she did it. She leaned over and did something I never thought I'd ever see her do. She brushed her lips on his cheek and pulled back, lowering her eyes. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome." His voice sounded fazed. Without missing much of a beat, he started the van. "Buffy, you've grown up."   
  
I reached behind me and fumbled in the dark to find the handle. I had to put an end to this before the gang caught them in the van in a liplock or something that was equally painful for them to see, as well as for me.  
  
As my attention was pulled away, I didn't see him reach across and take her hand, telling her how she was growing up. I didn't see her hand cover his and her eyes twinkle as she raised that precious smile to meet his gaze. And I didn't see their faces growing nearer...  
  
The backdoor burst open and the magic had broken. Pulling apart, Buffy turned and saw me, stepping back into the van. Voices filtered in behind me, letting me know the others were approaching from the ice cream stand about three blocks away.  
  
"We better move, it's almost eleven," Buffy said, checking the clock on the dashboard. "Giles?"  
  
"Call me Rupert," he replied, unlocking the doors as the rest of the gang filtered in.   
  
"All right, let's do this," Buffy said, swinging around. "I need to know you're all behind me." Her eyes flickered towards me. "All of you."  
  
"I'm in this," I said, my voice a menacing growl. She didn't notice as she turned around.  
  
"Let's go."


	15. Maneuvers

After two weeks of vacations, sick leave and computer viruses... here's where I ended up. The next two chapters will be spread out through next week. I can't keep making promises because my deadlines keep disappearing.  
  
Once again, a change in POV's. Giles really isn't worthy, because he's not where the action is. So.  
  
15 POV's: Willow, Buffy.  
  


* * * * *  
  
** Chapter 15  
Maneuvers  
  
** * * * * *  
  


The van grinded to a half, nearly a half mile away from the prison. Even where we were sitting, we could see the bright lights of the prison illuminating the vast grounds.   
  
I could feel the butterflies of anticipation and knew it was nothing compared to what Buffy and Giles must be feeling right now. Buffy was about to do what she'd only done when Faith was around - break the law. And Giles, who was even more legal than her, was about to watch his Slayer commit the crime.  
  
The back door burst open as Spike sauntered out, an ugly look across his face as he immediately lit up. Anya followed close behind him, her voice sharply loud as she rebuked him for wasting away their lives with his smoke.  
  
Xander followed her out, his mouth fluttering a nervous smile. Tara opened a side door and we both exited the vehicle, meeting Buffy and Giles, who had gathered in the dim light from the headlights.   
  
We all shared a tense moment of staring at the formidable complex before us, daunting and forbidden.  
  
I took a deep breath. Next to me, Tara seized my hand and we stepped tentatively forward. "It's time," I heard my voice say, confident and strong even though my stomach felt as though it were full of lead.   
  
The others stepped back and the van fell into darkness as we walked to the gates. Next to me, Tara dug into her bag. After the ingredients had been placed out, we began our encantation and waited for the barrier to be placed.  
  
Tara fell silent and turned to me as my chants became pleas, begging for passage to the realm where the magic we needed was. Finally, I could feel the power surging through me as a great red light struck the gates in front of us.  
  
There was a small pop, a fizzle and someone cried "Oh!". Turning, I threw my body over Tara's as the red light rushed us. I could hear the gasps of surprise behind me as the others fell.  
  
When it was over, I opened my eyes and glanced up. The security system had been disengaged. The cameras hung limply and the sign-in monitor was just a blurry screen with little hampsters dancing.   
  
Next to me, Tara stirred and sat up. "That was really something," she choked out. I could tell by the way she looked at me that it was more than just something. It was something big.  
  
A loud noise shook me from my stupor. The gates had just pulled open, inviting us beyond the entrance toward the prison.  
  
"Willow?" Buffy asked, her voice shaking beside me. "Are you ready?"  
  
I turned to her and nodded. Buffy gestured to Anya and Spike and tracked forward, her eyes on the target.   
  
"Once we get close enough, can you do a locator spell?"  
  
I nodded this time as the four of us stood by the gate. Behind me, Giles, Tara and Xander stood, looking uncomfortable.   
  
Just inside the gates, Buffy touched my arm. "Now."  
  
I chanted a single word and little blurry lights began to form around us. After circling us a moment, they strung together and pointed the way toward the first tower, a large, broad area where maximum security prisoners resided.   
  
We got to the main entrance where a nine-digit code was needed for clearance. Buffy, whose experience in the Initiative would prove handy, swiped her old government issue security card through and typed her own nine-digit code.  
  
The computer stopped. I whispered two quick words and the heavy steel door slid aside.   
  
"This is it," Buffy said, stepping inside, followed by Anya, who practically ran indoors, not able to see enough, and Spike, who timidly eyed the entrance next to me. I gave a small shooing noise and he tumbled inside, nearly knocking Anya over, who was inspecting the metal walls.  
  
"I guess this is where I say goodbye?" I asked in a tiny voice. I was afraid I would have to go inside.  
  
Buffy nodded and reached out, touching a large red rectangle on a small panel near the door. The heavy door slid shut.  
  
"Good luck," I muttered before stepping away. Once a safe distance from the door, I turned and glanced back up. I enchanted my last spell, one that would drive all of the guards away from Buffy.  
  
I only hoped it would work, because they didn't have a lot of time.  
  


* * * * *  
  


I glanced behind me, the corner of my eye peeping the door closing. After the loud thud, the three of us stared at one another a moment before I took a deep breath. "We did it."  
  
"We're in," Anya replied, her voice slightly surprised, as though she had been expecting more resistance.   
  
"We should move," Spike said, his voice edgy. He kept glancing at the white walls and shuddering. I suspected he was recalling his experience within the Initiative.  
  
Wow. Had that really been two years ago?  
  
A tug on my arm pulled me from my reverie. Spike had taken my arm and had pulled me away from the camera while Anya jumped up and snapped the small tripod it sat on. "No security. No mess-ups."   
  
I nodded as the three of us moved along the corridor into the maximum security area. From where we were walking, I could see the hordes of guards, weapons raised, running from the area, crying out about two prisoners having a duel.  
  
"That's supposed to be the two of you," I hissed, pushing Spike toward the guards. He gulped, his eyes bulging slightly.  
  
Anya stood next to him, looking equally frightened. "Buffy..."  
  
"Just go!" I cried out, watching as they slowly took off. After I raised my voice "hurry!" again, they took off at a run. I turned back and tried to focus my mind.  
  
Get Faith out. Save Faith's life. And then kick her...  
  
A loud noise behind me made me gasp and run behind a wall, trying to catch my breath, which was hard since my lungs were lodged in my throat. Another score of guards stormed by and a loud scream came from the corridors in front of me.   
  
With a small sigh, I took off to the main corridor offices outside the maximum security ward. Slipping into the office, I saw on a large poster a grid of squares, each with names scrawled in, along with dash marks which most certainly meant their violent occurences. Something jumped inside my stomach when I saw that Faith was in one of the uppermost rooms and that she had no hashes.  
  
Having all the information I needed, I ran to the heavy metal door and slid my enchanted card through. The door opened with a loud snap and using all the force I could muster, forced it open. I walked along the corridors, listening to the heavy breathing of patrons in their cells.  
  
I had to move quietly, so I wouldn't disrupt the eerie calm flow that emanated from the cold ward.   
  
If I were trapped here, I would want to die. The heavy concrete walls seemed to trap all feelings of hate, distrust and heaviness within.   
  
Within a few moments, I had found the steps and had taken them to the upper levels. After reaching the fourth floor, I used my card to open the door and stepped out.   
  
It was even colder up here. There were whispers, murmurs coming from a nearby cell. It seemed as though a woman was crying, the voice ragged and babyish.   
  
There was a harsh voice mumbling in the cell across from hers as I walked by. It was a ragged-looking gentleman, swearing under his breath.   
  
After I passed the first series of cells, I glanced up. At the end of the first corridor was another cell. I walked quickly toward it until the figure inside became clearer to me and I froze.  
  
Faith.  
  
She was sound asleep on her cot, dressed in black drab, her hair scattered roughly over the lumpy cot.  
  
I could feel the fear in my toes.  
  
I was about to break the law.  
  
But Faith had once told me I was above the law.  
  
Wasn't I?  
  
I took another step forward when a loud scream sounded at my left. I turned and saw a large-built woman screaming about a traitor. "Traitor! She's come to take her away! Traitor! Help! Help!"  
  
I knew I had to hurry. Even with Anya and Spike carrying a beautiful spectacle downstairs, the guards might hear her screaming and know it was a coup.   
  
I reached Faith's cell and shook the bars hard, rattling them. Faith groaned and stirred on her cot. "Come on, Faith!" I hissed, shaking the bars harder. "Get up."  
  
"Who the hell do you think you are?"  
  
I turned slowly away from Faith's cell, my hands shooting into the air, my eyes wide. A single matron stood there, gun pointed at me, an evil glint in his eyes.   
  
"I'm the one breaking out your maximum security patron," I replied in a cheerful voice, trying to keep my shaking hands from trembling.  
  
His eyes narrowed and he withdrew his gun a little, sizing me up. "What the hell..."  
  
Before he could finish speaking, I lashed out at him. I kicked the weapon from his hand, delivered a quick uppercut to his chin and then leapt him to the ground and rose, watching as he lay there, groaning.  
  
Faith was awake now, but was mumbling in confusion. The entire corridor was awake now, many crying out variances of the matron's words.  
  
I ran forward and grasped Faith's bars. "Faith!"  
  
She spun around, and for the first time in a year, I saw her face. "B."  
  
"We're getting you out of here, Faith. Come on! Double slayer strength."  
  
She didn't waste a second. We managed to pry a few of her bars apart, just wide enough for her to slip through. As soon as she was out, she grasped my arm to pull herself up and once again, I saw her face to face.  
  
"What's going on?" she finally managed to choke out.  
  
"Later," I replied, hearing cries down a secondary corridor. I grasped her hand and ran over the matron toward the staircase. As we turned toward the door, I swiped my card. As it registered, a large red light above our heads started flashing and a loud buzzing noise rang out.  
  
"Oh, damn," I muttered.  
  
Next to me, Faith trembled.  
  
"Move!" I cried out, pulling her arm as we ran down four stories of stairs. Ahead, we could hear the sounds of guards throwing open the doors in confusion to the alarm.  
  
We reached the ground floor and ran down the corridor. I was desperate to find the place where we'd broken in.  
  
"Buffy," Faith moaned behind me.   
  
I glanced up and followed her gaze. There were several officers, guns drawn, in front of us. And they were closing in behind.   
  
"We're trapped," Faith said.  
  
"We're slayers, Faith, we can fight our way out of this." My voice held a taunt.  
  
She glanced at me and for the first time ever, I could see the horror in her eyes. The horror of being trapped nineteen months in a silent hell. "We have to get out of here." She paused. "I won't hurt anyone."  
  
We stood back to back, our fists up. Faith trembled into me, but I forced my mind to stay focused. If I was knocked out, Faith and I would surely both be in jail, and the Council would discover our plans.  
  
And Earth was doomed.  
  
Everything I ever stood for rested on this moment. I could see my life flash before my eyes. My parents, Dawn, the divorce, Angel, Riley, my friends, Giles...  
  
I closed my eyes and lifted my fists. Opening them, I saw red.  
  
Literally.  
  
The guards in front of us cried out as they were swallowed in red.   
  
Behind us, the guards grunted and groaned as the sounds of kicking and punching verberated through the thick walls.  
  
And then everything fell silent.  
  


* * * * *  
  


I lowered my hands and stepped through the malady of bodies.   
  
Buffy saw me first and her fists dropped. As well as her jaw. I could read the relief in her eyes. "Willow!"  
  
She moved aside and I saw a second figure emerge. Faith. Her hair hung like ropes around her face, and her eyes were gaunt and haunted.  
  
"Come on, you two," I said, gesturing wildly to both. "We're out of time."  
  
"No, we're just very, very late," Spike replied sarcastically, brushing aside Faith and walking past me. It had been he who had taken the rear guards.  
  
"Let's move."  
  
The walk to the van took only a short time. Faith walked between Buffy and I. Her arms were crossed, her face was troubled, her gaze steady on the ground.   
  
Tara was standing at the gates, her hands out, extending toward the prison, a strange green glow in her eyes, as though she were trying to hold the shield over it.  
  
The moment the gate clicked shut behind us, Tara lowered her arms and we all hurried away. Even Faith ran between us.  
  
The van was parked a half mile away. Standing outside of it were Giles, Xander and Anya, who was sporting a nasty-looking black eye. When Spike slowed down, I realized he had been running with a limp and that his clothes were partially ripped. The edge of Anya's coat had been singed. Whatever they had fought over must've been good. It would have been entertaining to watch them fight it out.  
  
All thoughts of watching Spike and Anya fight flew out of my head when I saw Faith.  
  
She was leaning on Buffy, looking like she'd overcome war, or an event as significant.  
  
Finally, once she had regained the capacity to speak, she looked Buffy in the eye and asked in a steady voice. "What the hell was that?"


End file.
